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AGRICULTURE. 



TWELVE LECTUEES 



ON 



Agricultural Topics, 



DELIVERED BEFORE THE LOWELL INSTITUTE, BOSTON, MASS., 



BY 



ALEXANDER HYDE. 



SOLD BY SUBSCRIPTION ONLY. 




i C: , 



CQ 



HARTFORD, CONN. : i\ 
AMERICAN PUBLISHING COMPANY. 

1871. 






Entered according to act of Congress, in year 1871, by 

AMERICAN PUBLISHING CO., 
in Ihc office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 



PREFACE. 



The following Essays on Agriculture were originally 
delivered before the Lowell Institute in Boston, and were 
subsequently published in The Springfield RejmUlcan, 
Many who heard them in Boston, and many more, who 
have read them in The Repiihlican^ have requested that 
they might be published in a more permanent form. 
These essays do not profess to form a complete treatise 
on agriculture, but only to discuss some of the most im- 
portant topics of this great science. As they were origi- 
nally delivered in the form of lectures, it was necessary 
in order to preserve the unity of a lecture, that one 
topic, and only one, should be discussed at a session, and 
the author selected those subjects which he deemed of 
most general interest. The essaj^s embody the results of 
many years' study and practice, and if they shall prove 
a valuable addition to the agricultural literature of the 
country, the highest ambition of the author will be 
gratified. 

Lee, Mass., October 1, 1870. 



CONTENTS. 



LECTURE FIRST. 

AGRICULTURE AS A PURSUIT. 

CHAPTER I. 

PAOB. 

Effect of the Printing Press — A Modern Science — Deeper Research 

Needed — Hereditary Love for Farming — Agricultural Rest, . . 13 

CHAPTER n. 

Dignity and Pleasures of Farm Life — Agriculture Adapted to all 
Classes — Wonderful Transformation — Creative Powers of Man 
— Country Life and Pure Air — Choice of Location — Retirement 
from Business — Country Happiness, 19 

CHAPTER HI. 

Importance of Agriculture to Society — Relation to Manufactures and 
Science — Science and Practice Combined — Stimulus of Manufac- 
tures — Co-operative Branches of Industry — Diversity of Tastes, 28 

CHAPTER IV. 

Does Farming Pay? — Business Habits in Farming — Agricultural 
Schools and Colleges — Profit on Milch Cows — Cheese Making — 
New England Farming, 36 



LECTURE SECOND. 

HISTORY OF AGRICULTURE. 

CHAPTER y. 

Farmers as Scientific Men — Ancient 'W^riters on Farming — Grecian 
Precepts, .42 



Vi CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER VI. 

rAOB. 

Rise and Progress of the Art— Antediluvian Simplicity of Life- 
After the Flood — Vote- Yourself -A-Farm-Sy stem — Abraham's 
Farm in Egypt — Grecian Agriculture — Xenophon as a Farmer — 
Skillful Husbandry, 46 

CHAPTER VH. 

Cato an Agriculturist — Agricultural Literature — A Roman Farm — 
Ancient Farm Tools — The Post of Honor 54 

CHAPTER Vm. 

Night and Morning — The Moors in Spain — Romans not Vandals — 
Salad from Holland— Life in England— J^thro Tull— The Thresh- 
ing Machine — A Farmer as an Author — Arthur Young's Experi- 
ments — Humphrey Davy's Lectures — American Farming — The 
Future of American Agriculture, 60 

LECTURE THIRD. 

THE SOIL. 

CHAPTER IX. 

The Soil, its Origin and Nature — Diversity of Kinds — Chemical 
Nature — Examination of Rocks — Science and Revelation Agree 
— Period of Creation, 70 

CHAPTER X. 

The Glacial Period — Transportation of Boulders — Glacial Works on 

Mountains — Submerged with Water — Results of Large Floods, . 77 

CHAPTER XI. 

Organic Matter in the Soil— Effects of Frequent Plowing — Lands Im- 
proved by Forests — The Exhausting Process — Formation of Peat 
Swamps — Muck and Coal — Charcoal as a Fertilizer — Absorption 
of Gases, 82 

CHAPTER XH. 

Chemical Anal^'sis of the Soil — Selection of Loam — Amount of Min- 
eral Matter Furnislied — Uses of Clay and Soil — To Test Soil — 
Adaptation of the Earth to Men's Comfort — Means of Improve- 
ment, 90 



CONTENTS. . VU 

LECTUKE FOURTH. 

DRAINAGE OF LANDS. 

CIIArTER XIII. 

PAGB. 

Introduction of Drainage — rriraitive Experiments — Natural Drainage 

— Object of Drainage — Introduction of Tiles, .99 

CIIArTER XIV. 

The Advantage of Draining — Rains Never Injurious — Rain as a Fer- 
tilizer — DiSerence Between Rain and Spring Water — Minerals 
Held in Solution — Water an Obstacle to Decomposition — Lands 
Warmed by Drainage — Effects of Evaporation — Seasons Length- 
ened by Drainage — Drained Lands not affected by Droughts — 
Roots Strike Deeper — Extension of Territory Demands — Drain- 
ing an Auxiliary to Health, 105 

CHAPTER XV. 

AVhat Lands Need Draining — Exterior Evidences — Sure Test of Neces- 
sity for Drainage — How to Drain Land — Advantages and Method 
of Tile Draining, 119 



LECTURE FIFTH. 

MINKIIAL FEUTILIZERS. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Vegetable Deposits — Exhaustion of Lands — Errors in Manuring — Ele- 
ments of Fertility Required — Classification and Judicious Use of 
Manures — The Farmer's Capital, 126 

CHAPTER XVII. 
Carbonate of Lime — Exhaustion from Use of Lime — Chemical and 
Mechanical Effect of Lime — Its Application — Sulphate of Lime 
— Plaster — Application of Gypsum — Gypsum an Absorbent, . . 134 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Phosphate of Lime — Saving of Phosphate and Ammonia — Bones as a 

Manure — Sujierphosphate of Lime — Dissolving of Bones, . . . 113 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Wood Aslies as a Manure — Composting Ashes — Mineral Matter in 

Ashes — Cheapness of Ashes — Salt as a Manure, IV.) 



Vm CONTENTS. 

LECTURE SIXTH. 

VEGETABLE AND ANIMAL MANURES. 

CHAPTER XX. 

PACK. 

Green Manuring — Clover as a Manure — Buckwheat as a "Weed Eradi- 
cate r — Construction of Leaves — Leaves as a Fertilizer —Forests 
as Mines of Wealth — Sea- Weed Composted, 155 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Muck Beds and their Value — Soils Most Benefited by Muck — Muck 
and Ashes Composted — Material for Compost-Heap — Husbandry 
of Fertilizing Material — Dried Grasses, 163 

CHAPTER XXH. 

Animal Manures — Comparative Quality of Barn-Yard Manures — Night 
Soil — Immense Waste of Treasure — Unfounded Prejudices — 
Teacliings of the Compost-Heap, 171 

CHAPTER XXHL 

Animal Substances Decomposed — Wool, Horn, Hair, Blood, &c. — 
Manure and Animal Substances Composted — Wonderful Mechan- 
ism of Nature — Application of Manures — Adaptation of IManures 
to the Crop — Surface Manuring — Like Produces Like, .... 181 



LECTURE SEVENTH. 

THE HAY CROP. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

Value of the Hay Crop — Grass Versus Weeds — Sowing of Grass Seed 
— Chemical Analysis of Grass — Nutritive Value of Grass — How 
to Increase the Hay Crop — Quantity of Seed Necessary — Ked Top 
and Timothy — Self-Sown Grasses — Variety of Kinds Necessary — 
Orchard Grasses not Affected by Drought — Fashion Among 
Farmers, 189 

CHAPTER XXV. 

Early Cutting of Grass — Curing the Crop — Stimulating Effect of Hay 
— The Rowen Crop — Storage of Hay — Hay Imperfectly Cured — 
Feeding Hay, 203 



CONTENTS. ix 

CHAPTER XXVI. . 

FAOK. 

The Mowing Lot — Advantage of Drainage to Grass — How to Enlarge 
the Field — Deepening the Soil — Top-Dressing — Injury by Over- 
grazing — Material for Top-Dressing, 211 

LECTURE EIGHTH. 

POTATOES. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

Value of the Crop — Nutritive Qualities — Introduction of the Potato 
— Prejudices Against Them — Cultivation of Varieties — •Injudi- 
cious Mixing — Difference in Flavor, Form and Productiveness — 
Advantage of an early Crop — Deep-eyed Potatoes — Early Plant- 
ing — Vigorous Varieties — Large Yield, 220 

CHAPTER XXVIH. 

Potatoes— Quality of Soil, &c. — Sandy Soil for Potatoes — Use of Cul- 
tivator — Quality and Quantity of Seed — Largest Tubers not Profit- 
able — Cutting the Seeds — Time of Digging — Storing the Crop — 
Originating new Varieties — Experiments in Propagation, . . . 236 

LECTURE NINTH. 

THE CORX CROP. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

Decrease in the Corn Crop — Adaptation of Climate — Premium Crops 
— Early History of Corn — Cultivation by the Indians — Opinion of 
Baron Humboldt — Notes from " The Pilgrims' " Journal — Culture 
in Europe and United States — Large Crops and Poor Prices, . . 250 

CHAPTER XXX. 

Nature and Uses of Corn — ^Fattening Qualities — Muscle-Making Qual- 
ities — Danger of Overfeeding — Mineral Components — Effects of 
Plaster on the Corn Crop— Analysis of the Corn Cob — Value of 
the Cob for Animal Food, '261 

CHAPTER XXXL 

Varieties of Corn — Improvement of Seed — Popular Varieties — White 
and Yellow Corn — Sweet Corn — Philosophy of Pop Corn — Adapta- 
1^ 



X CONTENTS. 

PAOB. 

tion of Soil — Appropriate Manures — Method of Application — Ex- 
periments in Seeds — Time and Mode of Planting — Harvesting the 
Crop — Cutting at the Roots, 269 

LECTURE TENTH. 

THE ROOT CEOP. 

CHAPTER XXXn. 

Roots Unknown to the Ancients as Food — Necessary to Health — ^Do 
Roots Pay ? — Following Old Customs — Root Raising in England 
— Good Beef from Turnips — Roots for Milch Cows — Water Essen- 
tial to Life — Animal Craving for Roots — Tm-nips Compared to 
Corn — Premature Slaughter of Animals — Labor Necessary for a 
Beet Crop — Exhaustion of the Soil — European Experiences, . . 282 

CHAPTER XXXni. 

Culture of Roots — The Beet — Value of the Leaves — Varieties of Man- 
golds — Importance of Good Seed — Appropriate Manures — Get- 
ting the Crop — Swedish Turnip — The English Turnip^The Car- 
rot Crop, 299 

LECTURE ELEVENTH. 

FRUIT. 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

Natural Taste for Fruit — Childhood Reminiscences — Beauty and 
Poetry of Fruit Culture— Is Fruit Raising Profitable ?— The Ap- 
ple Crop — Overstocking the Market — Planting of Fruit Trees a 
Duty— High Price of Pears, 311 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

The Apple — Grafting Fruit — Origin of Apples — Improvement in Fruit 
— Hybridization of Plants — Limitation of Existence — Fault of 
Propagation — Constitutional Vigor Necessary — Chance Seed- 
lings, 320 

CHAPTER XXXVL 

Proper Site for an Orchard — Proper Soil — Preparation of the Soil, — 
Top-Dressing — Cause of Failure — Affected by Drought — Planting 
Apple Trees — Enemies of Fruit Trees — The Curculio — Pruning 
Fruit Trees — Varieties of Apples — Plant Trees, 330 



CONTENTS. xi 

LECTURE TWELFTH. 

CATTLE HUSBANDRY. 

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

Value of Keeping Stock — ^Advantages of Cattle Raising — The Secret 
of Farm Wealth — Intelligence of Animals — Increase of Cattle- 
Roots and Vegetables for Fodder — Value of Cabbages for Cattle, 343 

CHAPTER XXXVHI. 

Feeding of Stock — Cooking Food — Regularity of Feeding — Plenty of 
Water — Value of Pure Air — Kind Treatment of Animals — Adap- 
tation of Food to Animals — Food for Calves — Milk in Large Quan- 
tities — Experiments in Soiling — Staples in Life — Cheese Making, 353 

CHAPTER XXXIX. 

Breeds of Cattle — Jealousy of Cattle Breeders — Short Horn Durham — 
Nervous Temperament of Cattle — The Ayrshire and the Devon 
— The Jersey and the Brittany — Dutch Cattle — Increase of Cattle, 366 



LEOTUEE FIE ST. 




CHAPTER I. 

AGRICULTURE AS A PURSUIT. 

|E live in an age of progress. The time foretold 
in holy writ, "When the ends of the earth 
f3 should be brought together," has come. " Many 
are running to and fro and knowledge is increas- 
ing." We are among those who believe that every age 
has been an age of progress, that knowledge has ever 
been on the increase. It seems to us absurd to suppose 
that the wit and wisdom of one generation are wholly lost 
in the next, that each individual must work out for him- 
self the problem of life, unaided by the experience of those 
who have gone before him, that nations rise and fall grop- 
ing their way in darkness with no light thrown on their 
path from the history of preceding nations. Neither sacred 
nor profane history, neither prophecy nor fact, justify us 
in taking so gloomy and discouraging a view of life. 
True, the progress in the early ages of the world was 
slow. History was then unprinted. The accumulations 
of wisdom were poorly transmitted by manuscripts, mon- 
uments and tradition. Paper was unknown, and a 
parchment manuscript was a luxury too costly except for 
princes and nobles. 



14 EFFECT OF THE PRINTING-PRESS. 

The invention of printing acted on the slow progress of 
knowledge and the intellectual life of man, much as a 
drain acts upon a meadow, which from time immemorial 
has been covered with stagnant water, rendering all veg- 
etation slow, uncertain and coarse. Let drain-tile be in- 
troduced beneath the surface of such a meadow, and the 
accumulated deposits of earthy and vegetable matter are 
at once ready to furnish food for new and beautiful life. 
The field that was so long struggling to rise from the 
slough of despond by slow deposits on its surface, now 
finds itself suddenly elevated into the region of air and sun- 
shine, and is clothed with verdant and nutritious grasses. 

Such was the effect of the printing-press upon the ac- 
cumulated wisdom of the world. It gave currency to 
thought. Wherever its influence was felt, mankind were 
elevated into light and a new life. Steam and electri- 
city have wonderfully accelerated the progress of this 
new life. Time and sjDace are almost annihilated by 
their magic influence. We can travel farther, see more 
and learn more in one year than our fathers could in 
half a life-time. Every science, every art has felt the 
electric impulse. Agriculture is no exception to this re- 
mark. Though slow to move, it has felt the power of 
the current which is bearing forward all jDhysical and 
metaphysical knowledge with an irresistible force. 

The science of agriculture is, however, still in its in- 
fancy. As an art it has existed from the time when 
Adam was placed in the garden of Eden, and it may 
seem strange that an art which has been practiced as long 
as man has existed on the earth, and has occupied the at- 
tention of the great majority of men, should be so slow 
in attaining to the dignity of a science. It must be re- 
membered, however, that chemistry, botany, geology, 



A MODERN SCIENCE. 15 

zoology and electricity are also modern sciences. The 
rocks, plants and animals have existed longer on the 
earth than man, but the scientific investigation of the 
rocks is comparatively recent. From the crumbling of 
the rocks by the action of air and water, and the crush- 
ing of them by vast glaciers and other mechanical means, 
the soil has been formed from which all plants and ani- 
mals derive their nourishment, but it was left for modern 
science to analyze the rocks and to study their history, 
written as it were with a pen of iron on their face. Plants 
have existed from the time when the Creator said, " Let 
the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed and 
the fruit tree yielding fruit after his kind whose seed is in 
itself." We have cultivated these plants, and they have 
been our support from the creation till now, but neither 
Moses, learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians, nor 
Solomon, who gave his heart to wisdom, and spake of all 
the trees from the cedar of Lebanon to the hyssop that 
springeth out of the wall, nor Socrates, the wisest of the 
Greeks, nor Cicero, the Roman philosopher, nor even- 
Lord Bacon, the giant of English intellects, could ana- 
lyze a leaf and tell its elementary constituents. 

The lower animals came to Adam to be named, and 
they have been man's constant companions and allies in 
all ages ; still zoology is a modern science. The Greeks 
knew that amber when rubbed would attract light sub- 
stances, and they called this power " electron," but this 
was pretty much all they knew of electricity, which now 
looms up in such vast proportions and is revolutionizing 
the business of the world. These are the sciences which 
are the progenitors of the complicated science of agricul- 
ture, and we must not blame the farmers for not work- 
ing out the theory of their occupation, when men, — phi- 



16 DEEPER PvESEAECH NEEDED. 

losophers as well as fools, — lived till tlie days of William 
Harvey without understanding the theory of the circula- 
tion of the blood. 

When we consider the extensive and complex relations 
of the science of agriculture, we do not much wonder 
that it is still in its infancy. The truly scientific farmer 
needs all the wisdom of the geologist, the chemist, the 
mineralogist, the botanist, the zoologist and the mechanic. 
The whole range of physical science pours its contribu- 
tions into the lap of agriculture. 

Let no one, however, be discouraged by this from the 
practice of an art which is so simple that too many have 
thought it to require only the exercise of muscular force, 
guided by the smallest modicum of intellectual ability. 
It is one of the beauties of the art that all men, whether 
learned or unlettered, can practice it. The simpleton 
may possibly hold his plow and sow his seed as well as 
the wisest of philosophers, and a mind as great as that of 
Daniel Webster may find ample scope for investigation 
upon the farm. We very much doubt whether Uzziah, 
one of Israel's most prosperous kings, who ,is described 
"as loving husbandry and having much cattle, both 
in the low country and in the plains ; husbandmen also, 
and vine dressers in the mountains and in Carmel," knew 
as much of the laws of breeding cattle, or of the chem- 
istry of wine manufacture as the majority of the gradu- 
ates of our high schools. He was, however, a prince 
among husbandmen as well as a mighty ruler, " for he 
loved husbandry." 

Agriculture is not like painting, poetry and other fine 
arts, in which only the few who are born painters and 
poets can hope to succeed. Farmers are made, not born. 
The art is of so universal necessity that any degree of ex- 



HEEEDITAPwY LOVE FOR FARMING. 17 

cellence in it is desirable. Any man tliat makes twor 
blades of grass grow where one grew before, deserves and 
receives credit for his skill. If he makes ten blades 
grow instead of one, we give him still greater credit. 
No matter whether he tills one acre or a hundred or a 
thousand, — if he cultivates well what he undertake^, he 
will find great satisfaction in the employmelit ; and an 
acre will furnish far greater scope for mental and muscu- 
lar exercise than is commonly supposed. 

Agriculture is unlike other arts, also, in the almost uni- 
versal love which mankind have for it. A, father, in the 
selection of an occupation for his son, if he is a wise man, 
will consult the bent of the boy's genius, and v/ill not 
undertake to make a mechanic of him, unless he shows 
an aptitude for the use of tools, much less will he ap- 
prentice him to a painter, unless the lad shows a decided 
taste for this fine art. Many a good farmer has been spoiled 
in the vain attempt to become a minister. The love of 
agriculture, however, is so universal, and life in the coun- 
try is such a normal condition of man, that, no matter 
what else our taste and talents may lead us to pursue, we 
have never yet met vv^ith a man who did not desire to be 
a landlord, to sit under his own vine and apple tree, and 
enjoy the fruits of his own labors, which mother earth 
holds out with a full hand to those who cherish her in 
ardent love. We have met with men too lazy to work, 
who sneered at farm life as one of unremitting toil, and 
j^referred some other occupation in which they could earn 
a living with less sweat of the brow, but men who are 
afraid of work are not destined to excel in any business or 
profession, and are drones living on the honey collected 
by others, no matter whether they are farmers, mechan- 
ics or professional men. Labor on a farm is no more un- 



18 AGRICULTURAL REST. 

congenial to them than lal)or in the shop and office. 
These same men all acknowledge the pleasure and inde- 
pendence of rural life, but unfortunately 

" He that by the plow would thrive, 
Himself must either hold or drive ; " 

and however pleasurable the thrift may be, the driving 
is decidedly uncongenial. We know a farmer Avho sits 
in his house of a pleasant June day, enjoying the sopo- 
rihc influence of his pipe, and occasionally saying, " I 
wish them potatoes were hoed." It cannot be said of 
such an one that he has great relish for agricultural pur- 
suits, but he probably does as much at farming as he 
would in merchandising or manufacturing. In either of 
these occupations he would be distanced by his competi- 
tors, and probably become an object of charity, but, not- 
withstanding his shiftless, lackadaisical mode of farming, 
he raises pork and potatoes enough to keep soul and 
body together. Many a professional man, with his head 
aching with the perplexities of his business, sighs for the 
quiet, sim^^le pleasures of farm life, and many a mer- 
chant constantly on the qui vive to outstrip his competi- 
tors in trade, and fearing commercial revulsions which may 
strip liim of the results of a life of toil and enterprise, 
longs for a home in the country, where he may spend 
quietly the evening of his days. A professional man with 
a l)rilliant genius, fitting him '' to govern men and guide 
the State," and shine in the most polished society^ recently 
said to us, " Can I manage a few acres of land ? I long 
to l)e the owner of some land and a tiller of the soil." This 
longing, ^^e think, is pretty universal. Tilling the soil is 
the primeval occupation of man, and we inherit from 
father Adam the love of the ancestral business, which the 
ardent pursuit of no other calling fully eradicates. 



CHAPTER 11. 

DIGNITY AND PLEASURES OF FARM LIFE. 

|E therefore say without fear of contradiction, that 
1,^ more men are fitted by natural taste and ca- 
?^^^^^ pacity for farminQ- than for any other occupation. 
tf'-.^--* "We go further and say there are few men witli 
tastes so perverted and capacity so small Avho can not 
earn a comfortable livelihood b}^ agriculture. AVe have 
in our mind's eye now, a man Avho l)y some hook or crook 
entered one of our New England colleges. Hoav he 
passed the ordeal of examination we never knew, but the 
keen eyes of his fellow students soon discovered that he 
Avas not fitted for a college course, indeed that his wits 
Avere barely sufficient to keep him out of the fire. They 
did not keep him from the fire of ridicule, Avhich soon 
became so hot that by the force of public opinion, not by 
the interference of the faculty, he was compelled to leave 
college and retire to a farm. Strange as it may seem, he 
made a good farmer, managed successfully two hundred 
acres of land and a large herd of cattle, and had money 
to lend to whoever would give him ample security. The 
adaptation of agriculture to all degrees of intellect is 
trulv wonderful. Daniel Webster, the type of intellect- 
ual strength, found ample scope for liis powers upon the 
farm, and the dwarfed capacity of the Irish peasant has 
been found adequate to the management of land, and he 
sometimes manages it with exceeding skill. 



20 AGRICULTUEE ADAPTED TO ALL CLASSES. 

The adaptation of ao^riculture to all ranks and condi- 

J. o 

tions of society is not less wonderful. The king himself, 
Avithout any loss of dignity, can be a farmer. Most of 
the presidents of these United States have been farmers, 
and have retired from their high position to the cultiva- 
tion of their broad acres. We should be sorry to see a 
president reduced to selling lace and broadcloth, but of 
AVashington as a farmer, we are almost as proud as of 
Washington the president. Adams on his farm at Quincy, 
Jefferson on his estate at Monticello, Jackson at the Her- 
mitage, were just as dignified as when in the presiden- 
tial chair. Van Buren prided himself as much upon his 
large patch of cabbages at Kinderhook as upon his sharp 
diplomacy at Washington. Clay, surrounded by his short- 
horns at Ashland, was as much a nobleman as when gazed 
upon with delight by his compeers in the Senate cham- 
ber. The massive intellect of Webster was as conspicu- 
ous in the guidance of his farm at Marshfield as when he 
guided the affairs of State. 

The philosopher and the peasant meet on common 
ground when they meet on the farm, and it would be 
strange if the philosopher could not learn something from 
the peasant, as well as the peasant from the philosopher ; 
and in this exchange of thought, as well as in the balance 
between brain and muscle, each finds his own dignity and 
self-respect supported. 

Prince and peasant alike feel that in cultivating the 
soil they are fulfilling the mission which the Creator gave 
to man when he placed him in the garden of Eden. The 
pleasure, too, which the cultivator feels in raising his own 
fruits and flowers is very analogous to the pleasure of the 
Creator when he looked upon the works of his hands and 
pronounced them good. We doubt not there is pleasure 



CHEMICAL CHANGES. 21 

in the successful prosecution of any branch of useful indus- 
try. The conversion of cotton and wool into fabrics for 
the protection and adornment of our persons, is a species 
of creation, a remoulding of raw material into forms of 
beauty and utility, which must give the manufacturer 
great satisfaction ; but this does not seem so much like a 
miracle as the creation of new life from inert matter, a 
transformation which the farmer constantly sees going on 
around him, and in the conduct of which he has a direct- 
ing agency. In the case of the manufacturer, no new 
life is the result of his skill and labor. Matter is trans- 
formed and is made useful and beautiful ; but cloth, glass 
and paper have no life. 

Not so with the products of the farm. Here dead, in- 
ert matter is transformed, not only into a thing of beauty 
and utility, but becomes also a thing of life. An apple 
lives and grows, and this vegetable life is destined to en- 
ter into the composition of a still higher organization in 
animal life. How the vile, offensive matter in the com- 
post heap is converted into the luscious and fragrant 
peach, is beyond the power of human ken to discern. 
It is a living, perpetual miracle, attesting the wisdom 
and power of the great Creator ; but the farmer acts an 
important part in the transformation. He prepares the 
compost, determines whether it shall fertilize a melon or 
a cabbage, sows the seed, and cultivates the plant, and so 
is, at least, a co-worker with the First Great Cause, and 
shares with him the pleasure of creation, as, it seems to 
us, the worker in no other branch of industry can. 

In planting a tree and watching the expanding bud, 
the opening blossom and the maturing fruit, there is cer- 
tainly a pleasure which the mere consumer does not and 
can not enjoy. It has been said that "an undevout 



22 CllEATlYE POWERS OF ISIAX. 

astronomer is mad," and it seems to us that an iindevout 
farmer is equally insane. All his life-time he works side 
by side with the Creator, and must feel his dependence 
upon a higher power for the sunshine and the rain, and 
upon a wisdom higher than that of any chemist, decom- 
posing and recomposing in the laborator}^ of nature the 
atoms of matter which are too small to be seen by the hu- 
man eye. AVe talk about making this and that to grow, 
but how small really is the agency which man exercises 
in the creation of new life. We are the engineers of the 
train, but the power which moves the whole is without 
and above us. 

-Poets, who are supposed to see further into the depths 
of human passion, and to understand the hidden myste- 
ries and the problems of life better than common folks, 
have always pictured the highest happiness in rural life. 
HoAv absurd it Avould be for a poet to describe a paradise 
in the city. Imagination, in her highest conceptions for 
the abode of man, always places him in some Arcadia, 
surrounded by trees and floAvers, the music of the birds, 
the murmurs of the running brook, and all the forms of 
animate life. " God made the country, man made the 
town," and as the works of God are infinitely superior 
to those of man, so the pleasure derived from the obser- 
vation of the works of the Creator is immeasurably greater 
than that derived from those of the creature. 

There is a majesty and beauty, a perfectness of mechan- 
ism and coloring in nature, which art in vain tries to imi- 
tate. If we examine the point of a thorn under a micro- 
scope we find it truly a point, having position without 
magnitude ; but if under the same instrument Ave exam- 
ine a cambric needle, it has much the appearance of a 
common croAv-bar. In the same maiuicr, if Ave examine 



COUXTllY LIFE AND TURE AIK. 23 

the texture of ^a leaf, its delicate mechanism is all the 
more apparent ; bat the finest product of the loom, wlien 
largely magnified, seems too coarse for the garments of 
civilized life. Those doomed to live incarcerated within 
the brick walls of a city endeavor to import into their 
prison-like aljodes some of the beauties of the country. 
A few plants in the conservatory serve to give them some 
notion of the rich coloring of nature ; a caged bird or 
two hung up in the halls give a few notes and a few 
snatches of the tunes which the great orchestra of birds 
is constantly repeating in the fields ; and a few paintings- 
hung on the walls give but a poor representation of the 
landscapes which the farmer has but to open his eyes to 
enjoy in all their magnificence and beauty. Life, music 
and motion can not be transferred to canvas. The trees, 
flocks and herds of Arcadia can be painted, and the 
nearer the picture comes to a representation of the real 
scene, the more we admire it ; but the Avaving of the 
leaves, the lowing of the cattle, the bleating of the sheep 
and the frisking of the lambs can not be delineated. 

Then, in the country we have the free air of heaven 
iincontaminated, — a boon of inestimable value. Good 
air is a blessing so cheap that we do not value it as we 
should. By the air our blood is vitalized momently, and 
without air we cease to live. Food wx may take at in- 
tervals of hours, but from the air Ave draAV our life con- 
stantly, and npon its purity much of the comfort and 
happiness of life depends. In the normal condition of 
life in the country, a kind providence has Avonderfully 
provided for the preserA^ation of the proper constituents 
and just proportions of the elements of the air. There 
is no increase of Adtiated gases, no stagnancy. The groAA^- 
ing vegetation al)sorbs from the air the carbonic acid just 



RETIKEMENT FROM BUSINESS. 25 

as atmosplieric contaminations of crowded cities, can con- 
gregate in the avenues of trade ; but when fortunes are 
made and gray hairs begin here and there to appear, the 
Country furnishes a refuge from the high pressure of city 
life, and agriculture is just the employment to keep the 
mind and muscles in healthy exercise during the evening 
of one's days. 

It is a great mistake, but one frequently made, to retire 
from active business, go into the country, build a cottage 
or a palace, without engaging in rural pursuits. So long 
as building and the improvement of the grounds oc- 
cupy the attention, the time passes pleasantly ; but as 
soon as this excitement is passed and the mind is unoccu- 
pied, the days grow long and wearisome. The truth is, 
God never made man to be idle, for He works and finds 
his highest enjoyment in the constant exercise of his infi- 
nite faculties, governing the universe in wisdom and love. 
We are made in his image, and if we would enjoy life we 
must, like our Creator, "go about doing good." Work, 
both of body and mind, is the normal condition of man. 
The muscles, unexercised, become weak and diseased ; 
and the mind, unoccupied, preys upon itself, just as the 
gastric juice, Avith no food upon which to operate, irri- 
tates the coats of the stomach. Hence, we see numbers 
who have retired from the excitements of business, and 
have built for themselves magnificent homes in the coun- 
try, soon become disgusted with the monotony of their 
life, sell out at a great sacrifice, and again plunge into the 
whirl of speculation. If these same men had, with their 
own hands, planted their gardens, set out an orchard ; 
had bought a small herd of Jerseys and personally tended 
them ; had erected a temple for their Brahma hens and 
paid their daily devoirs there in search of eggs ; had stud- 
2 



26 COUKTHY HAPPINESS. 

ied the character and habits of that most noble animal, the 
horse, and by care and kindness had won the confidence 
of one of the noblest of his kind ; had built a dove-cote, 
filled the air with doves, and watched the motions, the bill- 
ings and cooings of these most beautiful and loving birds, 
chosen in Holy Writ as the emblem of the Holy Spirit ; 
our word for it, they would never have been willing to 
exchange their country home, with its verdant lawns and 
landscapes, its fruits and flowers, its domestic comforts 
and domestic animals, its pure air and ample elbow room, 
its neighborly sympathy and quiet social enjoyment, for 
a pent-up residence in the city. It is not strange that 
some who go into the country, and engage in the pursuits 
of agriculture, should make shipwreck of their happiness. 
If mammon is the god they serve, and the rapid accumu- 
lation of gain is the end aimed at, they are doomed to 
disappointment. " The golden stream may be quick and 
violent" in the city, but in the country it is slow and 
sure, too slow perhaps for Young America, but rapid 
enough for those who have passed the meridian of life. 

In cultivating the garden, in planting fruit and shade 
• trees, in tending flocks and herds, in breathing the pure 
air, in cherishing all family and neighborhood virtues, in 
studying the science and improving the art of agriculture, 
in fostering the benevolent, literary and religious institu- 
tions of the community, and in the enjoyment of an en- 
larged hospitality, — a healthy stimulus will be given to 
all the pov/ers of mind and body which age ought to 
exercise. Happiness has been defined to consist in the 
healthy exercise of all our faculties, and if all these facul- 
ties are anywhere brought into requisition, it is on the 
farm. There is no end to the amount of knowled^-e and 
quantity of labor demanded in agriculture. We have 



CONSTANT EMPLOYMENT. 27 

heard farmers speak of their spring work and summer 
work being finished, but we could never finish spring 
work till the spring was finished, and were fortunate if 
some of it did not lap over into summer. Farm work, 
like woman's, is never done, and no man, young or old, 
with a few acres of land around him, need ever fear be- 
ing without employment, and if he loves his work, he 
will not be without enjoyment. 




CHAPTER III. 

IMPORTANCE OF AGRICULTURE TO SOCIETY. 

|E have spoken of the adaptation of farm life to 
all capacities and all ages, and of the pleasures 
fSf incident to this pursuit. Our subject will not 
be complete unless we also speak of its funda- 
mental importance in the economy of society. Agricul- 
ture was not only the primeval occupation of man, and 
the pursuit which the majority of men in all ages have 
followed, but it has been, is, and ever must be the main 
spring of all industry. All are dependent upon it for 
their daily sustenance. " The king himself is served by 
the field. The profit of the earth is for all." The 
banker and the beggar, the prince and the peasant, are 
alike fed from the products of the soil. Nothing can sup- 
ply the place of these products. All the gold of Califor- 
nia, and all the Erie railroad stock, multiplied indefinitely, 
cannot keep the soul and body of man together. No 
matter what business we pursue, we must, like the fabled 
AntsDus, draw our life afresh every day from mother 
earth. The philosopher poring over his musty volumes, 
lost in the region of thought, may forget for a time 
whether he is in the body or out, but at length 

*' Begins to feel, as well he might, 
The keen demand of appetite." 



RELATIONS TO MANUFACTURES AND COMMERCE. 29 

The metaphysician, soaring in the regions of specula- 
tion, may imagine he has risen above all physical wants, 
and may despise everything earthy, but, like Daedalus, he 
has to come back to the earth for support. Our daily 
bread can come in no other way than from the tillage 
of the ground. If we ask it of the chemist, he may tell 
us its principal elements and the proportions in which 
they are combined ; he may, indeed, furnish, by decompo- 
sition, the carbon, oxygen, nitrogen, hydrogen, phosphoric 
acid, lime and soda, of which bread is mainly composed ; 
but for all the sustenance these elements can furnish us, 
he might as well have given us a stone. Ask for bread 
of whom we will, and search for it where we may, and 
we shall find it a fundamental principle that our life must 
be sustained either by our own or others' culture of the 
soil. 

This culture not only gives life to man and beast, but 
is the foundation of all other business. All trades 
and manufactures, all commerce, in short all business, is 
the result directly or indirectly of agriculture. The 
thousands of wheels which are revolving in Massachu- 
setts to-day, whether moved by water or steam, are only 
re-moulding the products of the earth into some useful 
form, and the thousands of ships which are traversing the 
oceans and rivers of the world are merely transporting 
these products, either in a raAv or manufactured state, to 
a market. The merchants, whether wholesale or retail, 
are the mediums of exchange for the produce of the soil. 
The millions of money deposited in our banks represent 
the capital accumulated from this produce. Our costly 
and commodious public buildings, our beautiful private 
residences, our splendid turn-outs, the adornments of 
fashion, indeed all the representatives of value, — are the 



80 SOURCE OF ALL WEALTH. 

■ultimate results from the crops of the earth. A merchant 
prince once said to us, pointing to his splendid mansion 
in the Fifth Avenue, " Every stone in this house is the 
result of the prairie soil of Illinois." Were the annual 
harvests of the earth to cease, the whirling spindles and 
flying shuttles of our manufactories would also cease, our 
ships would rot by the wharves, and our banks would 
have no demand for discounts. When the labors of the 
husbandman are rewarded with bountiful harvests, the 
spindles multiply, the ships are well freighted, and money 
is current. The resources of a country exist mainly in 
the soil. Our ability to pay off our immense national debt 
depends upon our harvests. To our husbandmen we look 
for the labor, and to a kind Providence for a blessing on 
this labor ; and the burden which now presses so heavily 
upon our shoulders will be lifted off. We are blessed 
with an almost unlimited amount of territory. Land in 
this country is almost as free as water. Any man can own 
a farm by squatting and cultivating. 

As the area of our soil is unlimited so also is its pro- 
ductiveness. Who will dare to put a limit to the produc- 
tion of an acre of land ? We might as well put a limit 
to the capacity of man, or the influence of woman. If 
any one had told us ten years since, that an acre would 
produce an hundred bushels of oats, we should have been 
faithless, but our faith has since been swallowed up, if 
not in sight, at least in hearing. One of our neighbors, 
in whose integrity there can be no question, has returned 
over his signature, duly sworn to, one hundred and nine 
bushels of oats as the product of one acre, and when 
questioned by an incredulous friend : " How he knew 
that he raised so many on an acre ? " he straightened 
himself up in conscious integrity, and repHed, " I meas- 



SCIEKCE AND PRACTICE COMBINED. 31 

ured the land and weighed the oats myself." Some of 
our eastern friends, we believe, are still doubtful whether 
an acre ever produced a hundred bushels of shelled corn, 
but we have no reason to doubt this, if any confidence is 
to be placed in man or steelyards. The earth can be 
made to return thirty, sixty, a hundred, or even a thou- 
sand fold ; the quantity, under the blessing of Providence, 
varying much as our skill and labor vary. As the skill 
of man is unlimited, so must the capacity of the soil be. ' 

This leads us to say that it is only when science and 
practice are combined, that we can expect the highest 
results from agriculture. We have spoken of the art as 
adapted to the highest and lowest intellectual caj)acity. 
This is in a measure true of any art. A sailor, with no 
pretensions to a knowledge of the science of navigation, 
can by the aid of tables and charts prepared by others, 
steer a ship across the ocean, but should his tables be lost, 
he would make poor steerage. Science enables a man to 
take his bearings and calculate his distance and departure 
under all circumstances. No art is so greatly indebted 
to science as agriculture, as all sciences combine to pro- 
mote its advancement ; but, strangely, farmers have not 
generally felt the obligation, and have sometimes sneered 
at book-farming, as they have been pleased to term sci- 
entific agriculture. Seemingly they have not been aware 
that all practice must be founded upon knowledge or sci- 
ence, (for the terms are nearly synonymous,) and the 
only question is, whether our practice must be guided by 
the knoAvledge derived from our own limited experience, 
or from the accumulated wisdom of all nations and all 
ages. 

We have given a fundamental position to agriculture 
among the many arts which minister to the necessity and 



32 STIMULUS OF MANUFACTUllES. 

comfort of man. We believe this is strictly true, but we 
must not be understood as undervaluiug other branches 
of industry. All are necessary for the perfection of social 
life, and as civilization advances, the ramifications of in- 
dustry multiply ; but what we insist upon is, that they all 
branch out from agriculture, and draw their life from 
this great trunk. "As in the body we have many mem- 
bers, but all have not the same office, and as the eye can 
not say unto the hand, I have no need of thee, nor again 
the head to the feet, I have no need of you," so in the 
body politic we are all members of one common body, 
and there should be no schism ; all the members should 
have the same care one for another, as when one suffers 
all suffer with it, and when one is honored all should 
rejoice with it. In New England, we are greatly blessed 
in having the ramifications of business largely multiplied 
and in close contact. Each gives a stimulus to the others. 
We greatly fear that the agriculture of New England, 
resting as it does upon a comparatively barren soil, could 
not have successfully competed with that of the prairie 
and bottom lands of the West, had not manufactures 
sprung up and furnished a home market. When the 
strength of the virgin soil had been exhausted, our farm- 
ers would have sought a more genial climate and fertile 
land, and where now are populous cities and thriving 
villages, surrounded by green meadows, fields of waving 
grain, blooming orchards and luxuriant gardens, — there, 
had not manufactures lent a stimulus to agriculture, in 
all probability forest trees would now be growing, and 
slowly restoring the soil to its original fertility. As it is, 
our mountain towns, and those remote from railroads and 
centers of business, are decreasing in their population 
and the amount of their agricultural products. Farms 



CO-OPEKATIVE BRANCHES OF INDUSTRY. 33 

are being absorbed into one another, and real estate has 
fallen in value so much, that many farms can be bought 
to-day for less than the cost of the buildings upon them, 
and in some cases for even less than the cost of the fences. 
While this is the sad truth in relation to places Avhere 
agriculture is the sole pursuit, unstimulated by a home 
market, which other branches of industry furnish, we see 
real estate, in the vicinity of manufacturing villages and 
marts of trade, steadily rising in value. "VVe have known 
a few square rods of land, sufficient barely for the erec- 
tion of a building, sold for three times the amount at 
which the whole farm of one hundred acres was valued a 
few years since. While on the mountain and in the 
purely agricultural towns, little drainage is being done 
and comparatively few improvements are being made ; 
in the neighborhood of manufactures, the swamps and 
wet lands are drained, the high places are brought low 
and the rough places made smooth, and thus the way is 
prepared for the mowing-machine. When various branches 
of industry are co-operative, then it pays to make im- 
provements in agriculture. They operate on each other, 
obey the law of induction, much as do the north and 
south poles of the magnetic needle, — the greater the 
northern polarity, the greater the southern, and with in- 
creased southern polarity at one extremity of the needle 
comes increased northern at the other ; so with more ex- 
tensive manufactures comes a more improved agriculture, 
which again reacts in favor of manufactures. Hence the 
jealousy sometimes cropping out between farmers and 
manufacturers is foolish and suicidal. There is no antag- 
onism between the different trades and professions. 

The fine arts also have their appropriate sphere. They 

serve to embellish life. They satisfy the craving of the 

2# 



34 EXCITEMENT OF LABOR. 

eye for beauty and the longing of the ear for harmony. 
The world was not made for utility alone. In delineating 
a beautiful landscape, the painter is but imitating the 
Creator, who, when he made the world, adorned it with 
a lavish hand. There is beauty all around our path, and 
they make a great mistake who go through life, keeping 
an eye out only for the useful. 

While we thus accord to all trades and professions their 
due honor, we still contend that God, by placing Adam 
in the garden of Eden, and by implanting in his posterity 
an almost universal love of agriculture, has clearly indi- 
cated that in this pursuit the perfection of manhood and 
the highest enjoyment of life are to be found. Certain it 
is that the great majority of mankind in all countries are 
engaged in agricultural pursuits; and we fully believe 
that in no occupation is there so much quiet enjoy- 
ment, such a feeling of independence, such a constant 
and pleasurable excitement, that gently stimulates with- 
out overtasking the mental and physical energies. An 
extensive manufacturer, who in former years has expati- 
ated to us on the pleasure he derived from the music of 
his water-wheels, and the satisfaction he found in guiding 
the labors of a multitude of men, and seeing the town 
prosperous from the stimulus which he gave to business 
generally, has lately turned his attention to agriculture, 
and confesses that he finds in his new pursuit an enjoyment 
he never experienced before. Living in the open air, and 
exercising his muscles more vigorously and his brains 
more gently, dyspepsia, which formerly tormented him, 
has disappeared. He finds the sleep of a laboring man 
sweet, whether he eats little or much. In draining his 
swamps and creating fertile land from a worthless bog; 
in tending his herds and studying and developing the 



DIVEKSITY OF TASTES. 35 

good points of his animals; in planting his vines and 
fruit trees, he says he finds a pleasure which the old mill 
never gave. We know the source of the pleasure of life 
is mainly in the man, not in his occupation ; still it can not 
be denied that some pursuits are more conducive to hap- 
piness than others. It is well that we have different 
tastes. If all men thought as we do, all men would be 
emulous to be farmers. 




CHAPTER IV. 

DOES FARMING PAY? 

|UT some one may say, " I am satisfied that farming 
is an independent, healthy, pleasant pursuit, but 
«s; . does it pay ?" To this we answer, it must pay, 
for by it the great majority of men are at this 
moment earning their living. We have the highest au- 
thority for saying that, " in all labor there is profit, and 
much increase is by the strength of the ox," and " He 
that tilleth his land shall have plenty of bread." Still 
the general impression is that the gains of the husband- 
man, though sure, are slow, and this is the correct view 
of the case. Speculation is not legitimate farm business. 
The husbandman receives a thousand fold for the corn 
which he plants, but the return is after much patient toil, 
and he verifies the prediction made to Adam, "In the 
sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread." Farm stock can 
not be watered like railroad stock, and made to expand 
at pleasure. Those who go into farming expecting to 
make sudden fortunes, will be disappointed. It is a 
highway to health and competence, but not to wealth and 
luxury ; but as a " competence is all we can enjoy," we 
say with the poet : 

'' Oh, be content when Heaven can give no more." 

While we concede that the profits of farming are slow 
and sure, rather than rapid and uncertain, we still main- 



BUSINESS HABITS IK FARMING. 37 

tain that no business pays better in the long run for the 
cajDital and skill invested. Farmers never fail. While 
90 per cent, of those who enter upon a mercantile ca- 
reer become bankrupt, it is an anomaly for a farmer to 
ask his creditors to take fifty cents on a dollar. We 
never hear of farmer princes, and we can not point you 
to millionaires among husbandmen, but we can point you 
to thousands and tens of thousands among the cultivators 
of the soil who are independent as any prince, and live 
surrounded with the comforts, if not the luxuries, of life, 
all earned from the bountiful earth. The number of 
these might be increased indefinitely, if more intelligence, 
and more system generally, attended the labors of the 
husbandman. In this, as in every other pursuit, it is in- 
telligent labor that commands success. Were a manufac- 
turer to conduct his business in the shiftless manner in 
which many farmers direct their affairs, he would speedily 
come to the end of his career. 

The farmer, in many cases, lives and makes his ends 
meet, not because of his enterprise and skill, but because 
he has little at risk ; and the bountiful earth and the propi- 
tious skies cause his crops to grow, even when little 
thought has been bestowed upon their cultivation. Grass 
grows with little or no attention paid to it, and cattle will 
eat it and convert it into milk and beef with little human 
effort in guiding them, so that a farmer may manage to 
live with no great exercise, either of his mental or physi- 
cal energies. This, however, is rather vegetating than 
living. Neither the profits nor the pleasures of such farm- 
ing are great. With shame we confess that this is the 
type of farming which has been too prevalent in the 
country. By close economy and deprivation of the com- 
forts of life, by saving rather than by earning, such farm- 



38 AGRICULTURAL SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES. 

ers may live, may possibly lay up a little extra money, 
but it is done at the expense of true manhood, and of all 
the higher social, intellectual and moral enjoyments. 

It is gratifying to know that a brighter era is dawning 
upon our agricultural population. Thought has been 
stimulated by the numerous agricultural societies and pa- 
pers that have sprung up like mushrooms in the land. 
Book-farming is no longer sneered at. It is universally 
conceded that the field for scientific investigation in agri- 
culture is wider than in any other art, and science is 
turning her attention in this direction with a zeal worthy 
of all praise. After a long struggle, we have an agricul- 
tural college firmly established in this State, with a scien- 
tific and energetic man at its head, an able corps of in- 
structors, and nearly a hundred students gathered from 
all parts of the State, from whom we expect much in ele- 
vating the calling to which they are devoting four years 
of preparatory study. The Cornell University has also 
recently commenced a vigorous career on a munificent 
foundation, principally laid by the benevolence of Ezra 
Cornell, who for years has been bringing the ends of the 
earth together by means of telegraphic wires, and having 
amassed a fortune by his enterprise, is spending it in ad- 
vancing the interests of science, with agriculture as one 
of the leading objects of his institution. Agricultural 
colleges are also dotting the western prairies, and boards 
of agriculture are being organized in all the states, 
modeled after the Massachusetts board, which has done 
such signal service for the cause of agriculture in this 
State. 

The isolated life of the farmer has been in a measure 
broken up. Farmers' clubs and farmers' conventions 
have called them together, and they are comparing' notes 



PROFITS ON MILCH COWS. 39 

and learning from each other's experience. This isolation 
has been one great barrier to the farmer's progress. He 
has relied too much on his own limited practice and 
observation. We have recently attended some conven- 
tions of the farmers of the Housatonic valley, in which 
the subject of cattle husbandry, particularly with a refer- 
ence to the production of milk for the New York market, 
has been discussed ; and we have been gratified at the 
amount of information imparted, and the intelligence and 
thrift which the milk business is eliciting. Farms which 
a few years since, carried from fifteen to twenty cows now 
carry from twenty-five to thirty, and the cows which 
formerly returned to their owners from fifty to sixty dol- 
lars annual income, now return from eighty to one hun- 
dred dollars. A large farmer from Egremont has real- 
ized on an average the latter sum from his twenty-one 
cows the past year, and from his experiments in feeding 
cut and steamed food is confident that the coming year 
he shall realize four thousand dollars from thirty cows. 
This is an income equal to that received by the judges of 
our superior court, and is a good answer to the question, 
" Will farming pay ? " The number of milch cows in 
the State in 1865 was 143,286, without counting the 
31,100 heifers ; and if these cows could be made to give a 
return of one hundred dollars each, the income from this 
branch of farming alone, would be $14,328,600. If any 
one had prophesied, twenty-five years since, that the time 
would come when Massachusetts would furnish fresh 
milk for the New York market, we should have been as 
incredulous as Hazael, when told by the prophet of the 
cruelties he should inflict upon the childre]i of Israel. It 
is within the memory of the living, and those not very 
old either, when it sometimes took us a week to go from 



40 CHEESE IVIAKING. 

Western Massachusetts to New York. A day's journey 
brought us to the Hudson, where a little sloop was the 
only conveyance down the river, and when the wind was 
adverse the journey was one of several days, and at great 
expense of patience. Now the grass which is to-day 
growing on the hill-sides, is to-morrow, by a wonderful 
animal chemistry, converted into milk, and the next day 
is distributed . among the two million inhabitants of New 
York city and vicinity, who are dependent upon the 
country for this necessary of life. 

The increased attention paid to the production of milk 
is one of the hopeful signs for the future of New England 
agriculture. Where facilities are not offered for the trans- 
portation of milk to the city market, cheese factories are 
springing up, and two or three persons are thus enabled 
to manufacture the milk of five hundred cows into cheese, 
whereas it formerly required the labor of twenty-five or 
thirty. By this division of labor, not only are two dozen 
persons set free to attend to other duties, but by the 
greater skill, which science and practice have induced, a 
superior article of cheese is made, which commands a 
higher price in the market. 

From this enhanced value of milk we expect to see in- 
creased attention paid to the development of a better 
breed of cows, and more care bestowed upon the mead- 
ows and pastures which furnish the raw material from 
which milk is manufactiu*ed. These is no limit to the 
production of grass which our meadows may be made to 
yield. The average production of hay in Massachusetts 
is now less than one ton per acre, as we have 506,983 
acres in mowing, which produce only 476,759 tons of hay. 
The average may just as well be three tons, and an acre 
has been known to produce six tons. 



NEW ENGLAND FARMING. 41 

The future of New England agriculture is unwritten, 
and we will not attempt to unroll the scroll of prophecy, 
but if we are any judges of the signs of the times, they 
augur well for the coming farmer. Our soil may be rough 
and rocky, but there is strength in it, and we have facili- 
ties for developing its capacity which no other part of the 
country furnishes. Our manufactures have only begun 
to contribute to our agriculture. To aid in developing 
this agriculture and the manhood of the farmer, is the 
object of this course of lectures. 

We do not propose to give a full and systematic treatise 
on our favorite art. This would make our course of lec- 
tures too desultory. To preserve the unity of subject so 
essential to a lecture, we are compelled to confine our 
attention to topics, and shall select such topics as will be 
of most general interest and of the most practical value. 
The history of agriculture, the origin and classification of 
soils, fertilizers, and some of the leading branches of hus- 
bandry, will receive our chief attention. 



LEOTTJEE SEOOJS'D. 




CHAPTER V. 

HISTORY OF AGRICULTURE. 



^^GRICULTURE may be defined in its literal sense 
as the art of cultivating the ground, and obtaining 



from it the products necessary for the support 
and comfort of animal life; in a wider accepta- 
tion it also includes the breeding and rearing of the ani- 
mals required in the cultivation of the land and in the 
consumption of these products. 

Aericulture as an art has existed from the time when 
" God put Adam into the garden of Eden to dress it and 
to keep it;" as a science it is still in its youth, the 
present century having furnished more valuable contribu- 
tions to the science than all the previous centuries. In- 
deed, Lord Bacon was so disgusted with the empiric char- 
acter of all the treatises on this subject published before 
his day, that he burned all he had in his library, as a 
mass of ill-arranged, contradictory statements, saying, 
*' In all these books I find no principles ; they can, there- 
fore, be of no use to any man." We yield to none in ad- 
miration of the genius of Bacon. We are indebted to 
him for the key which has unlocked the secrets, not only 
of agriculture, but the whole round of modern sciences." 



FARMERS AS SCIENTIFIC MEN. 43 

'' No man is wise at all times," and we can not applaud 
"the greatest of mankind" for burning the plain state- 
ments of the agriculturists of all ages, merely because 
they contained no general deductions for his guidance. 
Would it not have been more philosophical to have col- 
lated the facts contained in these books, and deduced 
from them general principles from which others might 
heve reaped benefit ? It is, indeed, wonderful that an art 
which has engrossed the attention of the majority of men, 
and is essential to their very existence, should have been 
so long in attaining to the dignity of a science. But we 
must remember that other arts were equally slow in rising 
to this dignity. The kindred sciences which combine to 
make up the great science of agriculture were not devel- 
oped till within the present century. Farmers have ever 
been working, not scientific men, and in the early ages of 
the world the mechanical aids in agriculture were few 
and imperfect, and much hard labor was in the tillage of 
the soil. 

In the " Wisdom of Jesus, the son of Sirach," we read, 
" The wisdom of a learned man cometh by opportunity 
of leisure ; and he that hath little business shall become 
wise. How can he get wisdom that holdeth the plow, 
that driveth oxen, and is occupied in their labors, and 
whose talk is of bullocks ? He giveth his mind to make 
furrows, and is diligent to give the kine fodder. He shall 
not be sought for in public counsel, nor sit high in the 
congregation. He shall not sit on the judge's seat. He 
can not declare justice and judgment, and shall not be 
found where parables are spoken, but he will maintain 
the state of the world, and his desire is in the work of 
his craft." 
• As it was in the days of the son of Sirach, so it has 



44 ANCIENT WEITERS ON FAEMINO. 

ever been ; farmers, though " maintaining the state of 
the world," have been so much engrossed with their plow 
and bullocks, as not to find leisure for scientific investiga- 
tion, and, we are sorry to add, have not sufficiently val- 
ued the scientific researches of others. But, notwith- 
standing all the obstacles in the way of the progress of 
agriculture, we are confident progress was made, even 
before the days of Lord Bacon, and there is much wisdom 
concentrated in the writings of the Hebrew, Greek and 
Roman authors, to which we shall do well if we give heed. 

Science is but knowledge reduced to general principles, 
from accumulated experience, and it is not worth while 
to reject the experience of all past ages merely because 
it has not been systematized. We do not know what 
books the author of " Novum Organum" burned, but we 
venture to say much practical wisdom could be derived 
from them, and not a few general principles. We should 
not expect to find analyses of soils, grains and roots, but 
we should find much common sense, mingled with some 
nonsense, in relation to practical agriculture. 

Glory as much as we may, and as we have reason to, 
in our modern system of farming, and in our schools and 
books of agriculture, we find many of the practical rules 
current now-a-days equally current in the days of Greece 
and Rome. As Mitchell says in that captivating work, 
" Wet Days at Edgewood : " " There lies a mass of saga- 
cious observation in the pages of the old teachers, which 
can never be outlived, and which will contribute nearly 
as much to practical success in farming as the nice appli- 
ances of modern collegiate agriculture." Xenophon among 
the Greeks and Virgil among the Romans gave some as 
sage advice as we can gain from any English or American 
author. From the " Economics " of the Grecian we give 



GRECIAN PRECEPTS. 45 

the following precept, which is as shrewd as any Yankee 
can furnish : " Whenever you buy land, by no means pur- 
chase that which has been already well improved ; but 
choose such as has never been tilled for if you purchase 
improved grounds you must pay a high price for them, 
and you can not enhance their value, and must also lose 
the pleasure of improving them yourself." Virgil, also, 
in his " Georgics " insists upon the advantages of a rota- 
tion of crops, which, though taught by nature as well as 
by Virgil, has been slowly put in practice, even in these 
latter days. Virgil's aphorism, " Praise a large farm, cul- 
tivate a small one," is current doctrine now, more preached 
than practised. These old writers did not understand 
vegetable nor animal physiology, and give some precepts 
in grafting and breeding which make the modern student 
smile, but there is much good wheat mixed up with their 
chaff. 




CHAPTER VI. 

RISE AND PROGRESS OF THE ART. 

ULLY believing, as we do, that the world has not 
|i repeated itself in agriculture any more than in the 
other arts, and that the cycles of the ages as they 
have rolled around, have also rolled forward, we 
propose to give a brief history of the rise and progress 
of the art. The lamp which guides farmers is the lamp 
of experience, but the experience of the individual is lim- 
ited. " History," sajs, Bacon, " makes the wise states- 
man." The history of his art is equally essential to the 
skilful cultivator of the soil. A complete record of the 
progress of agriculture in the early ages of the world is 
impossible. From the necessity of the case it was never 
a lost art, but the records of its history were few, and of 
these few many were lost. 

Adam was the first horticulturist, and in the mild cli- 
mate of Eden, fruits doubtless furnished the chief diet, 
and fig-leaves, we read, supplied all the requisite cloth- 
ing. Cain and Abel made the first great division of 
agricultural labor, Cain becoming a tiller of the ground, 
and Abel a keeper of sheep. This distinction of tilling 
and grazing is the leading one even at the present day. 
Cain, after killing Abel, went east from Eden, and dwelt 
in the land of Nod, and probably in the fertile valleys of 
the Euphrates and Tigris, himself and his posterity con- 



ANTEDILUVIAN SIMPLICITY OF LIFE. 47 

tinued the laborious life of tilling the soil, while that part 
of Adam's posterity that inhabited the hilly country east 
of the Mediterranean, naturally adapted to grazing, be- 
came owners of flocks and herds, and led a comparatively 
easy, pastoral life. 

The record of these early ages is brief in the extreme, 
the history of two thousand years from the creation to 
the flood, being condensed in the first six chapters of Gen- 
esis. Progress must have been slow, for necessity, the 
mother of invention, could not have stimulated men to 
the exercise of much genius or enterprise. The Avants of 
the race in that temperate and fertile region, where by 
common consent our first parents had their original abode, 
must have been few. The shepherds and herdmen were 
probably migratory, driving their flocks and herds from 
one place to another, as the grazing was consumed. 

It is only when population is increased, and men live 
in villages and cities, that the artificial wants multiply 
and industry is stimiilated. As we sit down to our tables, 
loaded with products brought from the four quarters of 
the earth, our families clothed with vesture brought from 
places thousands of miles remote, our houses furnished 
with cabinet-work made from wood grown in the tropics, 
it is scarcely possible to conceive of the simplicity of the 
mode of living of the antediluvians. They must have 
invented some method of weaving, for we read of their 
having tents, and Tubal Cain is spoken of as instructor 
of every artificer in brass and iron ; and they also made 
some proficiency in music, for Jubal is mentioned as the 
father of all such as handle the harp and organ. 

Though the curse had gone forth, "In the sweat of thy 
face shalt thou eat bread," it is not reasonable to suppose 
that much exertion was put forth in the culture of the 



48 AFTER THE FLOOD. 

soil, when the spontaneous fruits supplied most of the 
wants of man, and a savory mess of pottage was so easily 
obtained by killing a lamb or kid. The character of man 
must have greatly altered if he worked for the mere love 
of work, with no necessity compelling him. 

After the flood we read that " Noah became a hus- 
bandman and planted a vineyard." This looks like hav- 
ing a permanent home and making improvements. From 
the skill displayed in building the ark, we might suppose 
that Noah had a sufficient knowledge of tools and archi- 
tecture to build himself a house, but he is spoken of after 
the flood as still dwelling in a tent. We are aware that 
some interpret the word tent to mean a covering, a pro- 
tection, but whether made of cloth, or boards, or branches, 
it was manifestly a movable affair, for it was pitched 
and moved as the demands of the flocks and herds re- 
quired. 

The patriarchs also dwelt in tents, and their property 
consisted mainly in cattle, though the precious metals 
now began to be used as a representative of value and a 
medium of exchange. Abraham is spoken of in the thir- 
teenth chapter of Genesis as rich in cattle, in silver and 
in gold ; and his nephew, Lot, who was at this time asso- 
ciated with him, had flocks and herds and tents. 

Their cattle increased so rapidly that the land of Bethel 
was not able to support them together, and a contention 
arose between their herdmen ; whereupon Abraham, like 
a man of peace, said to Lot, " Let there be no strife be- 
tween me and thee, and between my herdmen and thy 
herdmen. Is not the whole land before thee ? If thou 
wilt take the left hand, then I will go to the right, or if 
thou depart to the right hand, then I will go to the left." 
Lot chose the well watered plain of Jordan, and Abra- 



VOTE -YOURSELF- A-FAEM SYSTEM. 49 

ham remained in the hilly region of Canaan. Land at 
this time seems to have been as plenty as it is now in our 
western territories, and every man voted himself a farm 
and squatted upon it, as the modern phrase is, or in Bible 
language, pitched his tent where he pleased. It is wor- 
thy of remark that the dwellers in the rich, low country, 
became also low in morals, while those inhabiting the 
highlands and breathing a purer air were more pure in 
character. Sodom and the cities of the plain were de- 
stroyed, while Hebron remains to this day. 

Egypt, called in Scripture " the garden of the Lord,** 
and yearly enriched by the overflowing of the Nile, early 
attracted the attention of the tillers of the soil. This 
country furnished a refuge from the terrible drouths which 
dried up the pastures of western Asia. Abraham him- 
self fled thither with his beautiful wife, and his sheep 
and oxen and camels, his men-servants and maid-servants, 
to avoid the famine which was scourging the land of 
Bethel where he then dwelt. 

As population centered on the banks of the Nile, agri- 
culture rose in importance, but the progress was still 
slow. The change from the state of nature, and from 
a wandering pastoral life, must have been the Avork of 
ages. The nutritious qualities of the cereals, wheat, bar- 
ley, etc., were a long time in being discovered, and when 
known, these grains were cultivated in the rudest manner. 
They were sown on the rich deposit of mud made by the 
annual overflow of the river, and the only harrowing they 
received was done by a herd of swine trampling the seed 
into the ground. In Egypt, too, animal power was first 
applied to agriculture, but the plow, as delineated among 
the hieroglyphics on the ancient tombs, Avas an instrument 
much resembling our common picks. Abraham's sojourn 
3 



50 Abraham's farm ik egypt. 

in Egypt was short, but he remained long enough to learn 
the improved methods of culture, and possibly indulged 
in the propensity of his nation to make good bargains, for 
it is when he came out of Egypt that he is spoken of as 
having so much silver and gold. Very possibly he ex- 
changed some of his cattle with Pharaoh for these more 
compact representatives of value, and went back to Bethel 
to rear more of the same sort. 

We may here say that the rearing of cattle appears in 
all ages to have been one of the most profitable branches 
of farming. There is sometimes a great temptation to 
sell the products of the land, without passing them 
through the grinders of sheep and cattle, and thus con- 
verting them into wool, milk and beef. The former 
makes quick returns, the latter more slow but more sure 
and remunerative. It is often said that the crops of the 
farmer are growing when he is asleep, but if he feeds them 
to his stock there is a double growth, the growth of the 
cattle in addition to that of the crops. It may be diffi- 
cult sometimes to calculate hoAV the hay and grain fed to 
stock is to be returned in its equivalent of money, but 
the testimony of all history, and all modern statistics, is 
in favor of the stock farm. In Abraham's day probably 
no use was made of the manure, for the cereals were cul- 
tivated for ages without an idea of increasing the natural 
fertility of the soil by artificial means, and the sowing of 
grass seed and enrichment of grass lands is so modern as 
almost to be within the memory of the oldest inhabitant. 
But notwithstanding the neglect of what is now consid- 
ered one of the greatest sources of profit on a stock farm, 
Abraham became rich by keeping flocks and herds, and 
with few exceptions all who have followed in Abraham's 
footsteps have been blessed with similar prosperity. 



GRECIAN AGRICULTUKSU 51 

From Egypt, agriculture as well as letters migrated to 
Greece. Here, in a soil by no means as congenial as that 
of Eg3q3t, agriculture rose to a degree of perfection hith- 
erto unknown, and here agricultural literature makes its 
first appearance. Hesiod, who lived a thousand years be- 
fore Christ, in his homely poem, " Works and Days," 
gives a detailed description of a plow consisting of a 
beam, share and handles. It must have been a clumsy, 
unwieldy instrument, for he recommends that the plow- 
man be forty years old before he undertakes to handle it. 

" Let a good plowman yeared to forty, drive, 
And see the careful husbandman be fed 
With plenteous morsels, and of wholesome bread." 

From the allusions in the immortal Odyssey of Homer, 
we learn that the Greeks of his day had large quantities 
of cattle, horses, sheep and swine. Hecatombs of oxen 
were sacrificed to the gods, requiring a hundred altars 
and a hundred priests, only one bullock being sacrificed 
at one altar. In the description of the garden of Alcin- 
ous, we find nearly all the luxuries and elegance of mod- 
ern horticulture: 

" Four acres was the allotted space of ground, 
Fenced with a green enclosure all around. 
Tall thriving trees confined the fruitful mold, 
The reddening apple ripens here to gold, 
Here the blue fig with luscious juice overflows, 
With deeper red the full pomegranate glows. 
The branch here bends beneath the weighty pear, 
And verdant olives flourish round the year. 
The balmy spirit of the western gale 
Eternal breathes on fruits untaught to fail. 
Each dropping pear a following pear supplies, 
On apples apples, figs on figs arise. 
The same mild season gives the bloom to blow, 
The buds to harden and the fruits to grow. 



52 XENOPHON AS A FAHMER. 

Here ordered vines in equal ranks appear 
With all th' united labors of the year; 
Some to unload the fertile branches run, 
Some dry the blackening clusters in the sun; 
Others to tread the liquid harvest join; 
The groaning presses foam with floods of wine. 
Here are the vines in early flowers descried, 
Here grapes discolored on the sunny side, 
And there in Autumn's richest purple dyed." 

This picture is enough to make one's mouth water. 
With four acres of such tillage ground, we should be ready 
to subscribe to the maxim, " Four Acres Enough." 
Granted that the poet draws on his imagination, and com- 
bines, as does a painter, different sketches into one grand 
picture, still the originals must have existed, though in 
detached places, for a poet "can not make something 
from nothing," any more than can the farmer. He could 
not have described the reddening apple, the blue fig, and 
the blackening clusters of the grapes, without having seen 
or heard of them, and the description fully proves an 
advanced stage of horticulture in Greece centuries before 
the Christian era. 

The proof of the advanced stage of Grecian agricul- 
ture does not rest solely upon a poetical foundation. 
Xenophon was a farmer, as well as warrior and historian, 
and had his country seat on the western slope of the 
mountains of Arcadia, looking towards the Ionian sea, 
where he wrote his celebrated "Anabasis," giving the 
story of the retreat of the ten thousand Greeks, whom 
after the death of Cyrus, he commanded in their wander- 
ings among the mountains of Armenia. There also he 
wrote his treatise on horses, and his economics, giving 
nice details of the management of the flocks, lands, ser- 
vants and the household. If Bacon burned the economics 



SKILFUL HUSBANDRY. 53 

of Xenoplion, lie deserves to have most foolish, added to 
the well known epithets, *' wisest, greatest, meanest of 
mankind." 

There is no question but that in the palmy days of 
Greece, agriculture attained a high degree of perfection. 
Fine breeds of cattle and horses were raised and extensive 
importations were made to improve the native stock. 
The use of manures was also well understood, which 
Pliny says was first taught by the old king Augeas. The 
compost heap was skilfully cared for, and everything 
added to it which could contribute to the fertility of the 
soil. Drainage was understood and practised, and the 
swamps and marshes around Sparta were drained and ren- 
dered tillable. Farm tools were greatly improved, and 
the land was thoroughly ploughed, and even subsoiled by 
the aid of mules and oxen. The Greek farmers also en- 
joyed the luxury of fruits, and had apples, pears, quinces, 
cherries, plums, peaches, nectarines and figs. With good 
culture of the soil, good houses became also a necessity, 
and rural architecture was carried to a high degree of 
perfection, though their architects devoted their highest 
skill to the construction of temples and public buildings. 
For the encouragement of New Englanders, we may add 
that the Greeks made all these advances in agriculture on 
a soil by no means favorable to agricultural pursuits. 
Much of the land was hard and rocky, and much tillable 
soil was reclaimed from the swamps. The Greeks as a 
nation were not fond of rural life. They preferred 
the city and belles-lettres, and left the cultivation of the 
soil mainly in the hands of slaves and hirelings. The 
country did not furnish enough sociability for the lively 
and sparkling Greeks, who wished to assemble in the 
market-place daily and hear and tell some new thing. 




CHAPTER VII. 

mSE AND PROGRESS OF THE ART.— (Continued.) 

|ESTWARD the march of empire and the march 
of argriculture took their way to Italy. The 
culture of the soil was a fundamental idea in 
'^ Roman civilization. Seven acres of land were 
allotted by the State to each citizen, and in the early years 
of Rome no man was allowed to own more than this. 
The orator Curius says, " He was not to be counted a 
good citizen, but rather a dangerous man to the State, 
who could not content himself with seven acres of land." 
This assignment of land to each individual, and limita- 
tion of the amount, led to careful cultivation, as each was 
expected to earn his living from the soil. Trading was 
never a characteristic of the Romans, and a merchant 
was ever considered by them inferior to a farmer. The 
Greeks talked about appropriating to themselves the 
things of others in the way of a good bargain, and their 
subtle genius made them astute merchants. The Romans 
did indeed appropriate to themselves the things of others, 
but they did it by conquest. Pious ^neas, as Virgil 
calls the founder of the Roman empire, took possession 
of Italy vi et armis, and his posterity took possession of 
the rest of the world in the same manner. As the terri- 
tory of the empire was extended, the right of freehold to 
each individual was increased to fifty acres, and still later 



CATO AN AGKICULTUmST. 55 

to five hundred, but as in Germany every man was once 
expected to learn a trade, so in Rome every citizen was 
expected to be a farmer, and Pliny ascribed the exceeding 
fertility of Italy to the fact that " The earth took delight 
in being tilled by the hands of men crowned with laurels 
and decorated with triumphal honors." 

A Roman coveted, next to the honors of war, the 
honor of being a good husbandman. Distinguished gen- 
erals and private soldiers, statesmen and citizens, the 
learned and the unlettered, alike prided themselves on 
their skill in agriculture. Cato, the wise censor, eloquent 
orator and able general, wrote a treatise on agriculture. 
Cato's summary of the art of terraculture can not be ex- 
celled by the president of any modern agricultural college. 
He says: "The first thing is to plow thoroughly, the 
second to plow, the third to manure, the fourth to choose 
good seeds and plenty of them, the fifth to root out all 
weeds." Neither Lord Bacon nor Horace Greeley ever 
uttered more practical truth for farmers in less space. 
They are the grand principles on which successful agri- 
culture ever has rested and will ever rest. Science may 
explain these prmciples, but will never annul them. Cato 
not only understood the value of the plow, but insisted 
upon a thorough pulverization of the soil by the harrow. 
He also knew the necessity of drainage and recommended 
plowing wet land so as to throw it into ridges with deep 
furrows between them to carry off the water. If William 
Bender or George Jackson had once explained to the old 
Roman senator the use of drain tile, his farm would not 
have been deformed with the unsightly ridges, nor the 
wasteful open ditches. Cato, like most of his nation, 
advocated small farms and thorough tillage. Much labor 
is in the large estate, much profit is in the small. 



56 AGEICULTURAL LITERATUKE. 

So liiglily was agricultural literature prized at Rome 
. that the Senate ordered the twenty-eight books of IMago, 
the most voluminous writer on agriculture in Carthage, 
to be translated into Latin for the benefit of Roman farm- 
ers. Roman Avriters on this subject were also numerous, 
and were esteemed good authority. Among the most dis- 
tinguished of these was Columella, who lived two hun- 
dred years after Cato, and being a man of wealth, trav- 
eled through Italy, noticing the condition of the soil and 
the different modes of culture, and afterward extended 
his researches into Greece, whence the Romans Avere ac- 
customed to draw their finest models of art. Columella 
also traveled westward into Gaul, that he might perfect 
himself in the art of agriculture, and on his return wrote 
the fullest treatise on this subject that has come down to 
us from the old Romans. It is not a little singular that 
he opens his essay with a lamentation upon the degene- 
racy of his age, and a sigh for the good old times, when 
every man owned a little land which he cultivated, like 
Cincinnatus, with his own hands. 

Rome had now become rich and the landed estates 
large, and these were necessarily cultivated, mostly by 
bondmen, but we liave no doubt that the Romans of 
Columella's day were as noble as that great brigand, the. 
" pious ^neas," and the cultivation of the soil far better 
than when the farmers held the plow with one hand and 
the sword with the other, and were half farmers and 
half freebooters. Columella gave much advice that is as 
applicable in New England in this nineteenth century as 
^ in Italy in the days of Tiberius. He says, "Whoever 
would devote himself to the pursuit of agriculture must 
summon to his aid prudence in business, a faculty of spend- 
ing, and a determination to work." Our New England 



A ROMAN FARM. 57 

farmers have shown great determination in working, but 
the " faculty of spending " upon their farms the avails of 
their surplus products has not been overtasked. Fortu- 
nately for Roman farmers there were no banks, nor rail- 
road stocks, to tempt them to make investments outside 
of the business which they best understood. 

A manufacturer is very apt with his profits to enlarge 
his establishment and increase his product. A merchant 
also, as his capital doubles, doubles his business. But 
New England farmers have not generally acted on this 
principle. " The faculty of spending" has not been suffi- 
ciently developed. The revenue from surplus products 
has not been devoted to the improvement of the farm, but 
loaned to the manufacturer either directly or through the 
banks. To such we commend this precept of Columella. 
History abundantly teaches that property is nowhere so 
safe, nor so judiciously managed, as when under the eye 
of its owner. 

From Columella's account of a Roman farm establish- 
ment we conclude the seven-acre arrangement was out- 
grown in his day. He divides the farm buildings into three 
classes, the villa urbana, the villa rustica, and the fructua- 
ria ; that is, the mansion house, the laborers' cottages, and 
the barns and fruit houses. The details of these buildings 
show an age of great wealth and luxury among the rural 
classes. The mansion house is a large, square building 
constructed around an inner court with two complete 
suites of apartments, the one on the sunny side designed 
for winter, the other for summer. The drawing-rooms, 
dining-rooms, bathing-rooms, library, and servants' apart- 
ments are all on a scale of magnificence which no seven 
or fifty acres, however highly cultivated, could support. 
If all the Roman farmers lived in this style, it must have 
3* 



58 ANCIENT FARM TOOLS. 

been the Augustan age of farming. We very much doubt, 
however, whether the farmers of Columella's time, not- 
withstanding the magnificence of their establishments, 
enjoyed one-half of the home comforts with which the 
farmers of New England are now blessed. Their dinners, 
with peacocks as the most fashionable viand, may have 
been more stately, but if we could put back one of our 
farmers to the age of Augustus, and let him spend a year 
on a Roman farm, he would return contentedly to our 
present modes of living and farming, and thank the Lord 
that he did not live " in the good old times." 

The old Roman plow which is still in use in parts of 
Italy and Spain was such an unwieldy, inefficient instru- 
ment that it required three days to break up an acre of 
ground, and when the work was completed, a modern 
farmer would say that the soil was literally broken up, 
not plowed. The wheat, rye and barley v/hich the Ital- 
ians raised, were all pounded into flour in a mortar. A 
water-wheel for mechanical purposes Avas not known till 
one hundred years after Christ, and the winds swept over 
Europe till the eleventh century without lending any aid 
to man in grinding his breads tuffs. 

The Romans, with all their advance in agriculture, 
made little use of cattle except for work and milk, and 
sheep were raised solely with a reference to their wool. 
Poultry and fish constituted their leading viands. It re- 
mained for the English to discover the virtues of sirloin 
steak and a fat saddle of mutton. Italy had far greater 
facilities for the advancement of agriculture than Greece. 
The soil was naturally fertile, agriculture was the hon- 
orable employment, and she had all the experience of 
Egypt and Greece to enlighten her in the art. We 
must give her great credit for making the progress she 



THE POST OF HONOR. 59 

did, but there were some things in the very organization 
of Roman society which prevented the art from reaching 
its highest development. The farmer received little aid 
from the merchant. Commerce was looked upon with 
contempt, and the merchant was treated as belonging to 
an inferior caste. Mechanics also received but little 
encouragement from the State, the mechanic arts con- 
sequently languished, and hence there was little co-oper- 
ation of labor. Another lesson from history is that agri- 
culture can not rise to its highest perfection without the ^ 
aid of commerce, manufactures and the mechanic arts. 
They support each other as do the trees of the forest, and 
any jealousy between them is foolish and suicidal. 

Another impediment to the advance of agriculture in 
Italy, was the want of general intelligence. The patri- 
cians and nobles were highly educated, but the plebeians 
were kept in ignorance. The masses toiled on without 
knowledge or hope, serving the nobility and amassing 
property for the few to whom \Vealth brought luxury, and 
that extreme refinement known by the ungallant term, 
" effeminacy." The tillage of the soil was left more 
and more in the hands of menial slaves, till in the fifth 
century, when the vast tide of barbarians from the north 
swept over Italy and indeed the whole of southern 
Europe, bringing on the long night of the middle ages, 
when might made right, and all kinds of property, and 
especially the products of the farm, as most exposed, were 
insecure. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

A NIGHT OF DAKKNESS AND THE MORNING BREAKING. 

. ^ jHIS lone: nis^ht continued from the fifth to the six- 
lt| II teenth century, and scarcely a gleam of light in 
f^[2 the form of improved culture is cast upon this 
^^Jt'^ period. Around the monasteries the rights of 
property were still respected, and here literature and 
agriculture maintained a feeble existence. It is custom- 
ary to ridicule the monks, and to speak of their lives as 
barren as the dead trees upon our mountains, but to them 
are we indebted for the transmission of the literature and 
art of the old civilization, and ingrafting them upon the 
more vitalized stock of modern times. To their libra- 
ries we owe much of our knowledge of the nations of 
antiquity, and are even indebted to them for the j)res- 
ervation of the sacred Scriptures ; and around the monas- 
teries were found the only remnants of Roman agriculture. 
The monks had their failings but they kept up the form 
of Christianity, and a degree of civilization which was 
vastly superior to anything around them. 

The Saracens also, in Spain, successfully resisted the 
Vandal hordes from the North, and coming as they did 
from Egypt, Syria, and Persia, where agriculture w^as 
carried on mainly by irrigation, they introduced into the 
Iberian peninsula this system of culture, and built reser- 
voirs and aqueducts, the remains of which are to be seen 



THE MOORS IN SPAIN — ROMANS NOT VANDALS. 61 

to this day. To these improvements in her agriculture, 
introduced by the Moors, Spain is indebted for the found- 
ation of that wealth and power which made her at one 
time the first State in Europe. "Alas how is the mighty 
fallen ! " The contrast between the agriculture of the 
Spaniard of the present day, with that under those hea- 
then dogs, the Saracens, does not sjDeak well for modern 
civilization. We trust the dawn of a better day is now 
rising upon Spain, and that this country, one of the finest 
for agricultural purposes on the face of the earth, will 
again take her proper rank among the nations, and con- 
tribute her share to the multiplied wants of modern civ- 
ilized life. 

In passing from the agriculture of Eastern to Western 
Europe, and from the old to the modern type of agricul- 
ture, we ought to give the Romans the credit of extend- 
ing the arts, wherever they extended their conquests. 
They came, saw, conquered, but did not devastate. On 
the contrary they built up. They introduced their laws 
indeed, and established their form of government, with a 
procurator to exact tribute, but they were wise enough to 
know that the conquered nation could not pay large taxes 
unless the soil was well cultivated, and one of the first 
objects of the provincial governor was to instruct his sub- 
jects in the art of agriculture. During the first four cen- 
turies of the Christian era, the Romans had possession of 
Britain, and though the possession was maintained by an 
almost constant struggle of arms, still they made improve- 
ments in the agriculture of the island from which we are 
yet reaping the benefit. 

When the Roman power fell and the Saxons invaded 
England, a great check was given to its agriculture. We 
are fond of boasting of our descent from the Anglo-Sax- 



\l 



62 SAXONS NOT AGRICULTUBISTS. 

ons, but we must confess a faithful picture of our ances- 
tors is not very flattering to our pride. The Saxons were 
a rude people, subsisting mainly by the chase and by 
keeping large numbers of cattle, sheep and swine. The 
latter were fattened in the forests on the mast of the oak 
and beech, as but small quantities of grain were raised, 
not enough to furnish a decent supply of breadstuff's. 
The character of the food is said by physiologists to deter- 
mine somewhat the character of the man and the nation. 
We are inclined to think there is a basis of truth in this, 
but whether true or not we can not deny that our Saxon 
ancestors were wild and semi-savage, too much like the 
beasts they hunted, and on whose flesh they mainly sub- 
sisted. No hoed crops and no edible vegetables were 
raised, and as late as the time of Henry the VIII. salad 
was brought over from Holland to supply the table of 
Queen Catharine, who had been accustomed in her child- 
hood to a more civilized diet than England afforded. 
Neither Indian corn, nor potatoes, nor squashes, nor car- 
rots, nor cabbages, nor turnips were known in England 
till after the beginning of the sixteenth century. The 
suffering among the people was often intense. The shel- 
ters for man and beast were of the rudest kind, and it 
was estimated that one-fifth of the cattle perished each 
winter for the want of proper food and care. 

The landlords usually had an abundance of meat, but 
the tenants subsisted for the most part on barley, from 
which they made a coarse bread, grinding the grain in 
small hand-mills. 

For the benefit of the admirers of the good old times, 
we quote from the Treasury of Ancient and Modern 
Times, the bill of fare for the dinner of an English gen- 
tleman, on a feast day in the fourteenth century : " The 



SALAD FROM HOLLAND — LIFE IN ENGLAND. 63 

meat served on the tables was alwaj^s in great chargers. 
First course ; gammon of bacon, neat's tongue salted, 
boiled beef, mutton and veal, all larded, sometimes with 
unsavory lard. After the guests had gorged themselves 
on these gross meats, then the second course of ducks, 
pigeons, partridges, woodcocks, and quails, but this sec- 
ond course was partaken of daintily, for the stomachs of 
the good men were previously filled with the meats." 

The condition of the peasantry was miserable in the 
extreme. They seemingly had no rights which the land- 
lords were bound to respect. If an estate was sold the 
tenants were obliged to give up all, even their standing 
crops, without compensation. With such an uncertain 
tenure of property, agriculture could not be expected to 
flourish. So late as 1745, Marshal Noailler remarked to 
the king of France, " The misery of the mass of the peo- 
})le is indescribable," and the remark was as applicable to 
England as to France. The feudal system gave some 
little protection to persons and property against petty 
feuds and depredations among neighbors, but it was too 
much like the protection that cats give to mice. The 
ignorant and tyrannical lords protected the peasantry 
much as they protected their cattle and horses, and for 
the same selfish reasons. 

From this gloomy picture we turn with pleasure to the 
rise of modern agricultural science and art. The dark- 
ness of the middle ages was not suddenly dispelled. The 
light of knowledge never rises full-orbed in the soul. 
When God created the earth, and while darkness was 
still upon the face of the deep. He said, " Let there be 
light, and there was light." Not so with the light of 
knowledge. It is always preceded by a long dawning. 
The discovery of the art of printing in the fourteenth 



64 AN EXPERIEKCED FArwMEE AS AN AUTHOR. 

century aroused a general intellectual vigor and stimulated 
a spirit of inquiry in every branch of knowledge. The 
discovery of the new world also awakened enterprise, and 
lifted the wheels of progress out of the slough in which 
they had been so long sunk. 

It is difficult to fix upon the precise time when the light 
of science first shone with a full orb on the earth, nay, 
this time has not yet come. Gross darkness does not now 
cover the people, but prejudice, ignorance and supersti- 
tion still partially blind the eyes of us all, and it can not 
be said that the sun of science has yet risen. It is cus- 
tomary to point to Lord Bacon as the corner-stone of 
modern science, but Bacon's intellect would never have 
been developed had not the printing-press lent him its 
aid. Sir Anthony Fitzherbert in 1534, published the first 
work on agriculture in England. His work is styled 
" The Boke of Husbandrie," and is a strange medley of 
agriculture and theology ; as he has one chapter '' On 
Buying Lean Cattell" and another on "What Joyes and 
Pleasures are in Heaven." Nevertheless he gives some 
good precepts. As a specimen we quote the following : 

"A housbande" — this w^asthe Saxon term for our mod- 
ern husbandman — " can not thryve by his corne without 
cattell, nor by his cattell without corne, and shepe, in 
myne opinion, is the most profitablest cattell that any man 
can have." This book closes in this quaint style : " Thus 
endeth the ryghte profytable Boke of Husbandrie, com- 
pyled by Master Fitzherbandrie, of charitee and good 
zele that he have to the weale of this most noble realm, 
after he had exercised husbandrye with greate experi- 
ence forty years." Thomas Tusser, in the middle of the 
sixteenth century, published a volume called, " Five hun- 
dred Points of Good Husbandry," which had a great run. 



JETHRO TULL — THE THIIESIIIKG-MACIIINE. 65 

many editions being called for. Among so many points 
it would be strange if there were not some good ones. 
Some of his maxims had great influence, and are quoted 
by the farmers of the present day, as the following : 

" Who slacketh his tillage a carter to be, 
For groat got abroad, at home shall lose three." 

Many agricultural writers appeared, and many improve- 
ments in culture were made, during the last half of the 
seventeenth century, but it Avas left to Jethro Tull, in the 
early part of the eighteenth century, to make the first 
long stride both in the science and the art. Tull was a 
thinker and a worker. lie investigated the principles of 
fertility, and invented some new machinery to expedite 
the labors of the farm. " Thorough tillage " was his 
great panacea for all the ills the land is heir to, and to 
carry the idea of tillage into practice he invented a horse- 
hoe and the grain-drill. He also invented the threshinof- 
machine, an instrument of the greatest value, but the 
English superstition was so much opposed to it as an en- 
gine of the devil, that the flail and fan continued in use 
till the commencement of the present century. The flail 
is not yet obsolete, but the fan has been seen by few of 
the present generation of farmers. 

Tull was an enthusiast, as most reformers are, and 
doubtless carried his idea of thorough tillage too far when 
he stoutly maintained that it would supply the lack of 
manure. Tull could write and talk as well as work and 
invent, and his will was so strong and his bump of com- 
bativeness so large that he Avas determined to thrust his 
ideas into the heads of the English, whether they wished 
to receive them or not. Of course his new notions met 
with great opposition, and as there was some error mixed 
up with his truth, both were received with great distrust. 



66 ARTHUR YOUNG S EXPERIMENTS. 

If TuU had not made the great mistake of rejecting the 
aid of manure, his theory of the thorough pulverization 
of the soil, and his improved agricultural implements, 
would have been adopted at a much earlier day. 

What Tull did for the benefit of the culture of the soil, 
Bake well did in the improvement of the herds of cattle 
and sheep. He studied the laws of breeding patiently 
and intelligently, and laid the foundation for the present 
thorough-breds of England, which confessedly stand at 
the head of the herds and flocks of the world, though we 
expect to see still better in America. 

To Arthur Young, who died in 1820, the world is in- 
debted more than to any other man for the advancement 
of the modern science of agriculture. He visited different 
parts of Europe to study his favorite art, and made many 
experiments to ascertain the causes of fertiUty. To him 
we are indebted for ascertaining the value of ammonia, 
which, previous to his time, had been thought to be inju- 
rious to vecretation. Younj^ tried it on various soils and 
various crops, and found it in every trial to succeed. We 
now look upon ammonia as the test of value for most ma- 
nures. 

Young also experimented with summer fallows, and 
came to the conclusion that covering the soil is more ben- 
eficial than naked fallow, and that a rotation of crops is 
all the rest the land needs, a conclusion which has added 
millions to the wealth of EnHand and America. Youn^Tj 
drew from his experiments tlie important principle that 
nitrogenous manures increase the power of plants to avail 
themselves of the mineral resources of the soil, thus 
esta,blisliing the necessity for the use of both these classes 
of manure, a principle fully corroborated by all experi- 
menters since his day. By him, also, salt was first intro- 



HUMPHREY DAVY's LECTURES. 67 

duced into England as a manure. Young embodied the 
results of his investigations in a comprehensive work 
called the * 'Annals of Agriculture." 

As early as 1786, Young says : " To imagine that we 
are ever to see agriculture rest on a scientific basis, regu-" 
latedby just and accurately drawn principles, without the 
chemical qualities of soils and manures being understood, 
is a childish supposition." 

Young lived long enough to see the first chemist of his 
age, Sir Humphrey Davy, devoting his splendid talents to 
this fundamental art. At the request of the English 
board of agriculture, established in 1793, Davy was in- 
duced to investigate the elements of soil and manure, 
and his lectures before the board, delivered from 1802 to 
1812, mark an important era in the history of the art^ 
The substance of those lectures was embodt^ed in his " Ele- 
ments of Agriculture," published in 1813. In this work 
Davy explains the functions of the roots and leaves, and 
the construction of plants, showing that they consist 
mainly of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen and nitrogen, and that 
these elements are mainly derived from the air, only a 
small portion of the plant being formed from the materials 
of the soil. He also gives the analysis of soils, plants 
and manures, and their special adaptation to each other. 

Davy worked, not only in the laboratory, but his zeal 
for agriculture led him to the practical tests of his theo- 
ries in the field. We find him in 1805 experimenting 
with guano, which Baron Humboldt had discovered in 
the islands of the Pacific. He first recommended the 
use of bones for manure, which have since played so im- 
portant a part in English agriculture. What Davy and 
Johnston did for agriculture in England, Liebig has done 
in Germany. Neither have the. French chemists beeu 



68 AMEKICAN FARMING. 

idle. Bonaparte, with his enlarged views, did not over- 
look the importance of agriculture for developing the re- 
sources of la belle France, and established professorships 
and botanical gardens, which co-operated in advancing 
the science and elevating the art. 

Our own country has been slow in adopting all the 
theories of the European savans, but their works, espe- 
cially those of Liebig and Johnston, have been extensively 
circulated in America. Our geologists, chemists and bot- 
anists have also added their quota to the stock of science, 
while our practical agriculturists and mechanics have 
brought their wits to bear upon the advancement of the 
art. Especially in the department of farm implements 
we are leading the world. Our plows, mowing-machines, 
reapers and tedders confessedly stood at the head at the 
late Paris exposition of the industry of the earth. Land 
is so cheap here and labor is so dear that we are compelled 
to give our attention to the invention of labor-saving 
machinery. In cattle and sheep breeding we also com- 
pare favorably with the Old World. No better Durhams 
can now be found in England than in Massachusetts, 
New York and Kentucky, and the Vermont merinos have 
taken the premium at the world's fair. Our State and 
county societies and our State boards of agriculture are 
diffusing information among the farmers and stimulating 
them to excellence in their art, and now agricultural col- 
leges are springing into existence, in which science and 
practice co-operate to lead on to still further triumphs. 

What mind can comprehend the future of American 
agriculture ? In no country and in no age have circum- 
stances been so favorable for the development of this art. 
Land is abundant and fertile. The working classes are 
intelligent. The facilities for transportation are unrivaled. 



THE FUTURE OF AMERICAN AGRICULTURE. 69 

Property is everywhere protected. Commerce, manufac- 
tures and the mechanic arts are all co-operative with agri- 
culture. Labor is esteemed honorable, and is so aided by 
machinery that it is safe to say a man can accomplish 
twice as much upon the land now as he could at the be- 
ginning of the present century. He can rake ten acres 
now where he could one then, thresh ten times as much 
grain, plow more thoroughly with less expense of power, 
and, above all, can feel that while he is doing his work 
by machinery, he is not a mere tool himself, but a think- 
ing being, guiding inert matter with an intelligent mind. 
The facilities for transportation are so great that producei/ 
can be carried from St. Louis to Boston in less time and 
at less expense than formerly from Rochester, and the 
citizens of Massachusetts enjoy the early fruits and vege- 
tables of South Carolina only a few days later than the 
inhabitants of the Palmetto State. Science is overcom- 
ing the obstacles to production in our rigorous climate, 
and Massachusetts is already driving a thriving trade in 
furnishing winter flowers and vegetables for New York 
,city. Farmers have but to be true to themselves and their 
country, and they will be esteemed as the noblemen 
of the land, and the United States will rank as the first 
agricultural country of the earth. 



LEOTTJEE THIED. 




K9 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE SOIL— ITS ORIGIN AND NATURE. 

^^I^S we look over the face of nature we see an infi- 
nite variety. Here vast piles of rocks rise into 
the air, miles above the level of the sea, covered 
to a certain hight with loam on which grow tall 
forest trees, still farther up with a scantier soil and trees 
of a dwarfish size, till the pines which at a lower eleva- 
tion attained an altitude of one hundred and fifty or two 
hundred feet, rise in their maturity only a foot or two, 
and finally the mountain domes are constructed of the 
solid rock, with no trees and scarcely any moss, even, to 
cover their nakedness. 

Again we see vast plains, as the prairies of the North, 
or the steppes of South America, covered with a soil of 
almost illimitable depth, and supporting a vegetation of 
rank growth, that waves like a thing of life, as the wind 
sweeps over the grasses and flowers. In other places, as in 
our own New England, we find a varied landscape of rug- 
ged hills and fertile valleys, the latter most generally cov- 
ered with frequent and large boulders brought from the 
mountains, and nowhere having that depth of soil which 
characterizes the western prairies, and especially the bot- 



DIVERSITY AND OKIGIN OP THE SOIL. 71 

torn lands, so called, probably because the soil is bottom- 
less, (lucus a non lucendo.^ 

In other places still, as on our Atlantic coast, or the des- 
erts of Africa, we find great plains covered with sharp 
sand, that supports a stunted vegetation, and sometimes 
none at all, and is drifted by the winds like snow. The 
cause of this great variety of surface and the origin of 
the soils, have ever been subjects of interest to the scholar, 
and the investigation of them will not be without profit 
to the farmer, for upon the plants which the soil produces 
man and all other animals depend for their daily suste- 
nance. Where the soil is fruitful animal life is abundant, 
and where it is barren as in the desert of Sahara, no plant 
and consequently no animal can exist. 

Thinking men have long agreed in ascribing the origin 
of the soils to the rocks. The slow disintegration of the 
rocky crust by attrition and the action of air and water, 
has given us that more or less pulverized coat of the 
earth's surface which is fitted for vegetable life and which 
we call soil. This is a very simple statement and meets 
with ready assent, but there are problems connected with 
it which have puzzled the wisest philosophers. 

The disintegration, as we now see it progressing, is 
very slow, and. ages upon ages must have elapsed before 
the present large accumulations could have been made, 
on the supposition that no other agencies than air and 
water were in operation. The disintegration of that 
hard rock, which we call flint or quartz, gives us a sandy 
soil, but we find vast tracks of silicious sand far removed 
from all quartz rocks, and the questions very naturally 
occur — how can these great deposits of sand be derived 
from so hard a rock, and if so derived, how can they be 
so far removed from the original source ? 



72 CHF^nCAL NATURE OF THE SOIL. 

The crumbling of limestone gives us a calcareous soil, 
and the crumbling of slate gives a clay soil, but we find 
these three leading varieties of soil very generally inter- 
mingled and when one variety predominates, it is often re- 
mote from its parent rock. This intermingling of clay, 
sand and lime is essential to a high state of fertility. 
How has it been so thoroughly accomplished ? 

Again, we find mixed with these mineral elements, 
various proportions of organic or vegetable matter, which 
is also essential to fertility. Whence comes this vegetable 
mold ? These are all questions of interest, not only to 
the scholar, but to the practical farmer. In purchasing a 
farm, it is of the utmost importance that we should know 
the character of the soil, the mineral elements of which 
it is composed, the proportion of carbonaceous matter in 
it, and the crops for which it is best adapted, for it is far 
more economical as a general rule, to locate on naturally 
fertile land, than to remedy the deficiencies of barren soil. 
But we can not always select just the location and soil 
Ave could desire. Our fathers may have selected for us, 
or circumstances may render it necessary for us to till an 
unproductive field. We can not all live in the fertile 
valley of the Connecticut. Some of us are doomed to 
subdue the stiff clays of the hills, or to get our living as 
best we can from the barren sandy plains. 

On the same farm, also, we often find a variety of soil ; 
some fields of rich loam, where the clay, sand, lime, and 
vegetable mold are mixed in due proportion, others where 
clay is in excess, others where sand or gravel is too abun- 
dant, and others still where the deposit of pure vegetable 
matter, or muck, as we call it, extends down for several 
feet, and the mineral elements are so deficient that no 
grain crops can be raised upon them. In these cases we 



EXAMINATION OF ROCKS. 73 

want to know how to remedy all deficiencies, and to do 
it not empirically, as the quack doctor uses medicine, but 
with a knowledge of the composition and virtues of the 
different soils. To understand the nature of soils, we 
must know something of the rocks from which they are 
derived. 

If we examine carefully the rocks of a country like 
ours, this difference in their physical structure will first 
strike us. Some consist of one vast mass, apparently 
melted together like lead, possibly with cracks or seams 
here and there, and sometimes with a different species of 
rock running through these seams, but exhibiting no dis- 
tinct layers or parts. Others consist clearly of separate 
portions, or strata, lying on each other like flag-stones. 
This difference makes the great division of rocks into 
stratified and unstratified. 

The stratified rocks cover the largest portion of the 
earth's surface. The strata are not always, nor even gen- 
erally, horizontal. They dip, or incline at various angles, 
and the lime, sand and clay rocks, of which the stratified 
division is composed, often crop out on the surface of the 
earth near each other. Where this is the case, the soil 
produced from their disintegration is naturally richer than 
when produced from one variety. Many rocks also con- 
sist of a mixture of lime, sand and clay, and the crumb- 
ling of these produces those fertile loams which farmers 
love to cultivate. 

The unstratified rocks also consist of three varieties, 
the granites, traps and lavas, which in like manner crum- 
ble and produce soils ; the granite a cold, poor one, the 
trap a fertile, and the lavas a remarkably fertile soil. In 
New England our skill is often exerted upon a poor, gran- 
ite soil, but the valley of the . Connecticut is blessed with 
4 



74 OKIGIN OF KOCKS. 

trap, while Italy, Sicily, the Sandwich Islands, and every 
other volcanic country, exhibit the astonishing fertility of 
crumbling lava. 

If we examine the rocks more carefully, we shall find 
abundant evidence that they have once been in a fluid 
state. Far back in the ages the earth has once been 
melted with fervent heat. The curved appearance of the 
veins in the rocks show this. One variety of rock run- 
ning up through the seams of another variety also shows 
this. The cooling of this heated mass produced those in- 
equalities upon the earth's surface which we call moun- 
tains and valleys, just as the cooling of melted lead pro- 
duces inequalities upon its surface. The cooling process 
is still slowly going on, and only the crust of the earth is 
now solid ; and internally the fires are still raging. 

Probably the concave surface of the crust has the same 
inequality as the external convex surface, the depressions 
and elevations of the concave corresponding with those 
of the convex. Certain it is that whenever the internal 
fires burst forth, as in volcanoes, they always find vent at 
the tops of the mountains, and not in the valleys, as they 
naturally would if the crust of the earth is thinnest there. 
But on the supposition that the molten lava rises to a 
higher elevation under the mountains, we can easily ac- 
count for its finding vent at their summits, for here the 
resistance to it is less than under the valley, where the 
depression externally makes a corresponding strong arched 
poncave internally. 

The inquiry naturally arises, — where was the water 
when the earth was all in this molten state ? It cer- 
tainly could not have existed in the form of water till 
the heat was reduced below two hundred and twelve de- 
grees Fahrenheit. But it is not impossible that it may 



SCIENCE AND REVELATION AGREE. 75 

have existed in the regions of space (or the firmament, 
as the Bible calls it,) and both the water and the air must 
have been expanded to a great extent. 

This idea is not inconsistent with the Mosaic account, 
"And God said let there be a firmament in the midst of 
the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters. 
And God made the firmament, and divided the waters 
which were under the firmament from the waters which 
were above the firmament. And God called the firma- 
ment heaven." The records of nature and the records 
of the Bible are made by one God, and he is a God of 
truth, and truth is always consistent with itself. These 
records help to interpret each other, and when rightly 
interpreted all apparent discrepancies will vanish. 

Much needless anxiety has been felt by theologians, 
lest the teachings of science should go counter to those 
of Holy Writ. Truth need not fear the assaults of any 
foe. God has written the history of the world in indeli- 
ble characters on its face, and stamped his signet on the 
rocks just as surely as he has written the history of man 
and made a fuller revelation of himself in the Bible. He 
has given us minds to study both these great volumes ; 
let us do it faithfully and candidly, and we shall find new 
truth and new beauty reflected from one on the other. 

In the passage quoted above, the waters are spoken of 
as above the firmament or heaven, and this is entirely 
consistent with the idea that the earth was in a molten 
state, and the waters in the form of vapor. Of course 
with this amount of vapor in the heavens, darkness must 
have been upon the face of the earth. "And God said. 
Let there be light, and there was light," and when He set 
the greater light to rule the day and the lesser light to 
rule the night, and made the stars also, and set them 



76 PERIOD OF CREATION. 

in the firmament to give light upon the earth, it is not 
to be supposed that this was the first creation of these 
himinaries. As the earth cooled, and the vapors con- 
densed in consequence upon its surface, these greater 
and lesser lights began to shine. 

The Scriptures were not designed to teach science, but 
the language of the Bible, if rightly interpreted, will not 
be found to contradict the language of nature, if it also 
is rightly interpreted. All well informed theologians, as 
well as geologists, agree in giving to the word " day," in 
the first chapter of Genesis, the signification of an indefi- 
nite period of time ; and when it is granted that " a day 
with the Lord is as a thousand years," geologists have all 
the time they require to account for the formation of soils 
and all the other phenomena of the earth's surface. We 
know, from what we see daily occurring around us, that 
God does not count time as man counts it. " The mills 
of the gods grind slowly, but they grind exceeding 
fine." The soil has been a long time in formation, but 
there is an abundance of the impalpable powder, and it 
is exceedingly well adapted for the purposes of vegeta- 
tion. 




CHAPTER X. 

THE GLACIAL PERIOD. 

^F course, when Pluto gave up the dominion of the 
earth, Neptune took possession of it. The marks 
^ left by his trident are as manifest as those left by 
Vulcan. As the earth became cool, it necessarily 
contracted unevenly, as does a baked apple when cooled, 
and the hard, rocky crust cracked and assumed the vari- 
ous fantastic forms which now appear. Through the 
fissures of one variety of rock the molten mass of another 
flowed and then cooled, and thus we see veins of granite 
and quartz mingled with lime and slate. 

A vein of granite, forty feet thick, may be seen pro- 
jecting up through the mica slate in the Westfield river 
near Huntington in this State, and as it disintegrates more 
slowly than the slate, it forms a natural dam and water- 
fall. Cascades of similar formation may be found in 
most of our mountain streams. Until recently it has 
been thought by geologists that the action of frost, air 
and water upon the rocky crust was sufficient to account 
for the formation and transposition of the immense mass 
of matter now existing in the soil. The freightage by 
water of the huge boulders — those loose rocks which we 
see lying scattered about the surface of the earth or find 
imbedded in the soil — has, however, always called for the 
exercise of great faith in the power of water. Some of 



78 TRANSPORTATION OF BOULDERS. 

them weigh thousands of tons, and have been transported 
hundreds of miles from their original home in the quarry, 
high hills furnishing little impediment to their passage. 

Dr. Reed has found a boulder in Berkshire measuring 
fifty feet in length, forty in width, and averaging ten feet 
thick, and estimated to weigh five million pounds. This 
boulder was brought from a ledge in Canaan in New 
York, over high hills. Dr. Reed has traced boulders from 
this same ledge lying scattered through Richmond, Lenox 
and Lee, running in a course a little east of south, occu- 
pying a space twenty to thirty rods wide at first, but 
gradually increasing in width as the distance increases, 
the boulders, however, diminishing in size till they are 
finally lost sight of, some twenty miles from their starting- 
place. Similar boulders, in a similar direction, may be 
tracked from nearly every high ledge of rocks in the 
country. 

We are indebted to Prof. Agassiz for the theory of the 
glacial period, which satisfactorily accounts for the trans- 
portation of these rocks, and also for their being ground 
into soil. Born among the Alps, and early conversant 
with the immense fields of ice that now fill the Swiss val- 
leys, he studied the phenomena of the glaciers with the 
enthusiasm of an ardent lover of nature. He found that 
they were slowly moving down the valleys, grinding by 
their immense weight the rocks underneath them, and 
carrying on their backs and in their fissures boulders that 
had fallen upon them from the ledges far above. As the 
glaciers melt at their extremities, these boulders fall to 
to the ground. Agassiz found that these glaciers had 
formerly extended much farther down the valleys than at 
present, and had also left their scratches and grooves at a 
much higher altitude than their present surface. 



GLACIAL MARKS ON MOUNTAINS. 79 

Extending his researches in this country, he found the 
same indications of glaciers here as in Europe. The 
striae are distinctly marked on our mountains to the height 
of 6,000 feet, and at this elevation they all indicate a 
nearly southward movement of the glacier, the lower 
hills running east and west offering no obstruction to their 
motion, any more than do the inequalities in the valleys 
obstruct the movement of the existing glaciers in Switzer- 
land and the Arctic regions. Hence Prof. Agassiz con- 
cludes that the whole of British America and the northern 
part of the United' States have once been covered with im- 
mense fields of ice, in this section of the country reach- 
ing to the height of six thousand feet, and moving south- 
ward, crushing and grinding the rocks, and fitting them 
for the sustenance of vegetable life. 

As the ice melted, the glaciers only occupied the val- 
leys and moved in the direction of the declivity of these 
valleys, sometimes northward, sometimes eastward, just 
as the brooks and rivers now run. . In proof of this the 
lower grooves which the glaciers made are found to run 
in the direction of the declivity of the valleys. Just 
west of the village of North Adams, where the Hoosac 
turns to the west in a narrow gorge between the moun- 
tains, the grooves on the side of Greylock are distinctly 
seen running to the south-west, while on the top of the 
mountain they take the usual southerly direction. 

The melting of so much snow and ice must necessarily 
have caused great floods, and our hills and valleys give 
every proof that they have been once submerged with 
water, which acted an important part in fitting this world 
for the abode of man. By these floods the sand, gravel, 
clay and lime have been transported and intimately mixed 
after being ground in the great mills of the glaciers. 



80 SUBMEKGED WITH WATER. 

Conical hills of gravel and sand have also been thrown 
lip by the eddies of water, just where we might calculate 
counter currents would make these eddies. As we trace 
down the courses of a valley through which now runs 
some river or rivulet, we find the action of water far 
above the high water mark of the present day. The 
sides of the hills are terraced, table-lands on whose sur- 
face water once flowed, are found hundreds of feet above 
the level of the rivers, the small stones having all their 
angles worn off, and their surfaces showing the smooth 
rounded appearance which the stones on the sea-beach 
present from their constant attrition against each other 
by the movement of water. 

We see, also, the barriers of mountains through which 
the rivers have broken, gradually deepening their chan- 
nel with the lapse of time. Behind these barriers we find 
every indication of the waters forming lakes, and deposit- 
ing in their stagnant state the rich alluvium, composed 
of the finer powder of all the rocks lying on either side 
of the valley for a long distance. 

Here in the bed of these old lakes we should expect to 
find the richest soils, — nor are we disappointed. The 
meadows of Northampton, Hadley, Hatfield, etc., have 
such an origin. The Connecticut was evidently once 
dammed by the Holyoke range of mountains, and when 
the waters lay stretched quietly over where now are the 
villages of the valley, they deposited their rich mud, 
brought down from Vermont and New Hampshire, to en- 
rich our Massachusetts territory. 

No better soil have we seen between the Atlantic and 
the ^lississippi than is to be found in the Northampton 
meadows, and he is a fortunate farmer Avho owns the broad 
acres in that location. 



RESULTS OF LARGE FLOODS. 81 

A similar mountain barrier is found between Lee and 
Stockbridge, in the Housatonic valley, also west of Stock- 
bridge and south of Sheffield, and in all these cases a 
rich alluvial deposit is made, forming a fertile soil, though 
of much less extent than in the Connecticut valley. 

This process of transportation and deposition by the 
rivers is still being carried on, but on a limited scale com- 
pared with what it was after the glacial period. With 
every spring freshet, caused by the melting of the win- 
ter's snow and ice, the rivers make an annual deposit of 
fine soil on the meadows they overflow, which serves to 
keep them in a state of virgin fertility perpetually. Such 
lands are cheap at almost any price. They are enriched 
by the finer and lighter particles of the crumbled rocks 
from the hills and mountains contiguous to the valley, 
while the coarser and less easily transported materials are 
left on the summits and slopes. 

The amount of soil now thus transported, though small 
in comparison with the times posterior to the great grind- 
ing glacial period, is still larger than we are apt to sup- 
jDose. If w^e should undertake to cart ujDon our mead- 
ows the top dressing which the rivers now furnish them, 
w^e should find that we needed a large compost heap, and 
that the rivers easily perform what we should find it very 
laborious to do. 

The Missouri river is especially rich throughout the 
year with these fine particles of soil, and a tumbler of the 
river water, when allowed to stand, shows a large deposit. 
A Missouri lady, accustomed to drink the turbid water of 
this river, once objected to the pure limpid water of New 
England, because it had "no body to it." We should de- 
cidedly object to drinking such well-bodied water, but for 
irrigating land it must be excellent. 
4* 



CHAPTER XL 

ORGANIC MATTER IN THE SOIL. 

have thus given a brief and imperfect account 
of the origin of the inorganic elements of our 
_^^ soils. Besides these mineral elements, every 
^1^^ soil capable of producing a profitable crop must 
contain more or less organic matter. The proportion of 
organic matter varies greatly. In some of the barren 
sands only a trace of it can be found, while in the muck 
swamps it is in such excess, and the mineral elements are 
so scanty, that no grain crops can be raised upon them. 

The proportion of vegetable matter in any soil is easily 
ascertained by burning it, when the organized portions 
pass off in the form of gas. If thoroughly dried soil 
loses 30 per cent, by being burned, then 70 per cent, of 
it is inorganic and 30 per cent, organic matter. The 
quantity of the latter necessary to constitute a fertile soil, 
is much less than is generally supposed. Rye will grow 
where there is 1 to 2 per cent, of organic matter, barley 
requires from 2 to 3 and good wheat soils contain from 8 
to 12 per cent. Some of our richest lands contain only 6 
to 8 per cent, in weight, while the average of our long 
cultivated fields will not exceed 5 per cent. It does not 
follow because land abounds with vegetable matter that it 
must necessarily be fertile. The organic matter of plants 
as they decompose goes into the air, and from the air the 
living plant mainly derives its carbon, the leading ele- 



EFFECTS OF FREQUENT PLOWLNG. 83 

ment in its constitution. The mineral elements of all 
vegetation, however, must be derived from the soil, and 
upon these its fertility must largely depend. 

When land is plowed, the carbon in the soil, being ex- 
posed to the sun and air, diminishes much more rapidly 
than in the mowing and pasture fields. Hence one argu- 
ment against the absurd practice of summer fallowing, an 
old and pretty much obsolete custom of letting land lie 
idle during one season, and plowing it a number of times 
during the summer. The theory was that the fallow 
ground recovered its energies during the one year holi- 
day, and was thus fitted for renewed fertility. The plow- 
ing does exert an excellent mechanical effect on the soil, 
mixing and pulverizing it, and giving it that fine tilth 
which plants love. The vegetable matter, also, by fre- 
quent turnings is exposed to the air, decays rapidly, and 
by its decay is fitted to give new life to other vegetables, 
and the crop of the succeeding year is generally good, 
but it is obtained at an expense of time, labor, and ma- 
terial, which is far from economical. The waste of the 
vegetable mold by summer fallowing is especially great in 
warm, sandy lands, that can poorly afford it. 

Nature teaches us a better mode. She practices no 
fallowing, knows no summer holiday. Her effort seems 
to be to keep the soil constantly covered with some grow- 
ing crop and to lay by a store of both mineral and vegetable 
matter against a time of need. When the material in 
the soil for producing one kind of crop is exhausted or 
becomes scarce, she rotates to another. Thus we see in 
our permanent meadows a change of grasses spontane- 
ously going on in a succession of years. This rotation 
is more manifest still in our forests, where the trees that 
once grew are known no longer. 



84 LAND IMPROVED BY FORESTS. 

In the early settlement of Berkshire county, more than 
a hundred years since, tli^ white pine was one of the most 
common of trees, and clear pine boards two and some- 
times three feet wide, were used in the ceiling of our 
fathers' houses. The pines soon disappeared and maples 
were the leading trees of the forests. Now the maples 
are disappearing and the pines are springing up in the 
forests and pastures, and growing with great luxuriance, 
showing that they find in the soil an abundance of food. 
This rotation of crops is all the rest the soil demands, if 
the teachings of nature can be relied upon. 

The forests also beautifully illustrate the mode in 
which nature, or rather the Great Architect of nature, lays 
up stores of vegetable food in the soil, furnishing an 
abundance for present need and at the same time lay- 
ing up for future use. If a barren soil is planted 
with forest trees, it will soon have a rich deposit of leaf 
mold, and will continue to improve till it is restored to a 
state of virgin fertility. The leaves of the trees, with 
their millions of little pores, absorb the carbonic acid gas 
of the air, elaborate it with a skill which a chemist may 
well env}^, retain the carbon, and give out the oxygen; 
thus performing the twofold of&ce of purifying the air 
and invigorating the tree. As the leaves, the lower 
branches, and the bark fall to the ground and decay, they 
form a soil, which, when the forest is cut down, is ready 
to produce any crop the farmer is pleased to put upon it. 

This increase of carbonaceous matter in the forests, 
under the tillage of the Great Husbandman, is wonderful, 
and is a strong proof of the wisdom with which he hus- 
bands the resources of the earth. 

It would seem at first thought that the soil must be en- 
riched at the expense of the air. But in reality, there is 



THE EXHAUSTING PROCESS. 85 

no "robbing of Peter to pay Paul." One twenty-five 
hundredth part of the volume of air is carbonic acid gas, 
and this proportion is found to remain with slight, if any, 
change from year to year. The decay of plants and ani- 
mals, and the combustion of wood and coal, restore the 
carbon to the air just as fast as plants consume it. 

The discovery of the immense coal beds, so long stored 
away in the bowels of the earth against a time of need, 
and the increased consumption of fuel in consequence, 
have led some to fear that the air might become surcharged 
with carbonic acid, which, though vital to plants, is deadly 
to animals, but the fear is groundless. As the carbon in 
the air increases, the absorbing vegetation also increases, 
and the equilibrium is maintained. Instead of the air 
being poisoned from the combustion of coal the soil is en- 
riched, and we have no doubt a gradual improvement of 
the soil, both in mineral and vegetable resources, has 
been going on from the time when the rocks first began to 
crumble. 

Man's mode of tillage has been careless and wasteful, 
but God's has been provident and economical. We have 
plowed the land and taken off the yearly harvests, mak- 
ing poor returns to the soil for the abundant crops it has 
furnished us. The temptation to do this is particularly 
great in a new country, where land is cheap and labor is 
dear. We crop one field till the elements of fertility are 
exhausted, and then migrate to another. 

Old England has passed through the exhausting pro- 
cess, and long years ago began to recuperate, and now 
her average of wheat to the acre has risen to thirty-six 
bushels, while the average of New England has fallen to 
twelve. There is no necessity for such exhaustion. If 
Ave study the character of the soil, and imitate nature in 



86 FORMATION OF PEAT SWAMPS. ^^H 

restoring the potash, lime, soda and other ingredients ^ 
which we remove, we shall find it easier to keep the soil 
in good heart than to renovate it when exhausted, as it 
is easier to keep an animal in good condition than to bring 
it up from a state of leanness. 

The formation of peat swamps, where the proportion 
of vegetable matter constitutes from 70 to 90 per cent of 
the soil, is a subject of interest to the farmer and the 
student of nature. As the coal fields seem to have been 
reserved by a kind Providence for this age of manufac- 
tures, so the peat swamps appear to have been reserved 
to renovate the exhausted lands of the farmer, and to 
supply the increased demand for agricultural products 
which manufactures cause. 

When a plant dies on the surface of dry land, it 
speedily is decomposed, and the organic part resumes its 
gaseous condition and vanishes into thin air, leaving only 
a small residuum of earthy matter, which also soon disap- 
pears under the influence of rain and wind. Not so when 
the plant dies and is immersed in stagnant water. Then 
it blackens, falls to pieces perhaps, but the carbon mostly 
remains in a solid state. Other plants grow on the same 
spot and in like manner die, and the black vegetable mat- 
ter accumulates, and so long as it is immersed in the water 
little change is produced in it. Leaves blow into the 
swamp from the neighboring forest, and are in like man- 
ner preserved by the water from the action of that great 
decomposing agent, the air. 

Thus the peat or muck slowly accumulates, till, after 
the lapse of centuries, we find the deposits of carbona- 
ceous mattel some ten, some forty, and even fifty feet 
thick. Decay of vegetation, we must remember, is only 
a slow combustion, caused by the chemical union of the 



SLMLLARITY OF MUCK TO COAL. 87 

oxygen of the air with the carbon of the vegetable. 
This slow combustion can not take place where water 
is present in excess, any more than wood can burn when 
under water, or when saturated with water. 

When the water is once driven from the wood it burns ; 
so when the water is drained from our swamps, decay of 
the muck progresses rapidly, and if a little sand and lime 
are carted upon them they make some of our best soils. 
All over New England we find these muck swamps, 
which were formerly considered worthless, almost a nui- 
sance, as they bred miasm and fevers. We are now be- 
ginning to learn their true value. By pressure, the muck 
is converted into a tolerable substitute for that most con- 
densed form of carbon, used as fuel, anthracite coal. 
The resemblance of pressed muck to mineral coal is 
quite striking, and very possibly the coal beds were 
once muck swamps, pressed by the superincumbent drift, 
and condensed into their present state. 

The condensation would necessarily evolve great heat, 
on the chemical principle that the capacity of a body for 
caloric is diminished directly as its bulk is diminished. 
But however great the heat, the muck could only be 
charred not burnt, the presence of air being necessary for 
combustion, and no charcoal pit was ever so effectually pro- 
tected from the air as are our coal beds, having, as they 
often do, hundreds of feet of slate and earth piled upon 
them. Whatever may have been the origin of the coal 
fields, there can be no doubt of the origin of the muck- 
beds, for we see the process of their formation still going 
on ; and there can be as little doubt of the kind designs 
of Providence in storing away these immense deposits 
of vegetable matter for the use of the farmers of the 
present day. 



88 CHARCOAL AG A FERTILIZER. 

The organic matter in soils is not wholly of vegetable 
origin. The myriads of living animals that walk on the 
earth, or fly in the air, were originally made of dust, and 
to dust they must return. Like plants, animals as they 
decay on the surface of earth leave little trace of their 
organic constituents; still the soil is a great absorbent 
of ammoniacal and other gases, and although they may 
mostly pass into the air when the animal decays unsur- 
rounded by an absorbent, still every rain brings them 
back to the earth, and we are inclined to think the fer- 
tility of a soil is more dependent upon its capacity to ab- 
sorb these gases than is generally supposed. Charcoal, 
and indeed all carbonaceous substances, are great absorb- 
ents. Charcoal will absorb ninety-five times its own bulk 
of ammonia, fifty-five of sulphureted hydrogen and nine 
of oxygen. 

We have all noticed that where a charcoal pit has been 
burned the soil remains good for a long time. On the 
mountains of Berkshire we have seen white clover grow- 
ing luxuriantly on the bed of an old charcoal pit, making 
an oasis in the desert of ferns and briars that surrounded 
it, and on inquiry we found that the coal pit must have 
been burned half a century ago. On digging into this 
soil we discovered the charcoal with little if any appear- 
ance of decay, and promising to do good service for half 
a century more. Dry muck is mostly composed of car- 
bon, and much of its virtue must consist in its power of 
absorption. A dead animal, covered with a foot or two 
of muck, does not pollute the air with the gases gener- 
ated in its decay. All soils have their power of absorp- 
tion to a greater or less extent, and on this principle the 
modern earth closets are constructed. 

A friable clay loam, containing from 10 to 20 per cent. 



ABSOKPTION OF GASES. 89 

of organic matter, is a powerful deodorizer, and the most 
putrid substance, buried slightly under such a soil, 
gives forth no offensive odor. The gases thus absorbed 
by the soil, though destructive to animal life when in- 
haled through the lungs, are just the food on which 
plants thrive the most, and a skillful agriculturist looks 
well to see that his soil is ever ready to absorb the gases 
that are ever floating in the air and descending to the 
earth in the dews, snows and rains. An upland meadow, 
covered in the autumn with any absorbent, whether muck 
from the swamps, leaf mold from the forests, or the fine 
alluvial deposit from the side of the brook, will show in 
the spring that the top dressing has not been idle during 
the winter, but has absorbed from the rains and snows 
that which gives the meadow a beautiful coat of green 
before the neighboring fields show any signs of verdure. 

The quantity of the rich ammoniacal gases in any soil it 
may be difficult to determine theoretically but practi- 
cally the crops always show where they abound, and 
much of the skill of the farmer is shown in keeping his 
land in that dry, loose, friable state which is best adapted 
for their absorption. A cold, wet, hard soil can not sup- 
port a luxuriant vegetation, however abundant it may be 
in vegetable matter, as the air and gases can not pene- 
trate it. 




CHAPTER XII. 

CHEMICAL ANALYSIS OF THE SOILS. 

HE chemical analyses of soils have thus far disap- 
^^ pointed somewhat the expectations that a few 
years since were raised respecting them. The 
chemist can not always detect the homeopathic 
quantities that enter into the composition of the soil and 
effect its fertility, and there are many circumstances that 
may render a soil fertile or barren that analysis does not 
disclose ; but however complex the composition of a soil 
may be, viewed scientifically, there is little practical diffi- 
culty in ascertaining its general character, and its adapta- 
tion to the growth of any particular crop. 

Practical farmers classify soils into four general divis- 
ions : clay, lime, sand and peat. A gravel soil is included 
in the sand, for both have the same origin in silex, and 
sand is merely gravel more finely ground and differs from 
it only as meal differs from hominy. A perfectly pure 
specimen of either of these soils is seldom found, and no 
farmer wishes to find any for agricultural purposes. The 
mixture of these four kinds of soil varies as indefinitely as 
do the mixtures of the druggist. The mixture goes un- 
der the general name of loam, but how great a per cent, 
of clay, sand, lime, and peat it takes to constitute a 
good rich loam it would puzzle most farmers to decide. 

We have noticed that farmers generally prefer the kind 



SELECTION OF LOAM. 91 

of loam which they have been most accustomed to culti- 
vate, just as they prefer the quality of water, they are ac- 
customed to drink. No matter if the water is hard with 
lime, a man accustomed to drink it thinks it sweet, dislikes 
the soft water of the mountain spring, and calls it insipid. 
Just so the farmer brought up on a strong clay loam, and 
understanding its properties and the mode of cultivating 
it, pities his neighbor doomed to cultivate a light sandy 
loam, and the pity is generally returned with interest. 

Lord Bacon, who condemned all previous writers on 
agriculture as loose in their facts and indefinite in their 
conclusions, says "the mellow earth is the best between 
the two extremes of sand and clay, if it be not too bind- 
ing," "meaning, probably, if it does not have too much 
clay in its composition. This is as indefinite as any of 
the rules of Columella or Fitz Herbert, which the great 
philosopher thought of so little value as to commit to the 
flames. 

Let not the practical farmer be discouraged because 
the doctors of agriculture do not agree. The truth is, 
the fertility of land does not depend upon its having 
just such a per cent, of clay, sand, lime and vegetable 
matter. Both practical experience and chemical analysis 
disclose the fact that soils may vary greatly in their 
earthy and organic combinations, and still be very fertile. 
The plant wants a good home in the soil, but it lives 
mostly on the air. All the mineral nourishment it de- . 
mands of the soil is what is found in the ash after the 
plant is burned, and this is a small fraction of the weight 
of the plant. 

A cord of wood that makes a good load for a pair of 
horses, when burned does not leave ashes enough to bur- 
den the back of a small boy. A hundred pounds of 



92 AMOUNT OF ]inNEEAL MATTER FURNISHED. 

the grains of wheat make one and eighteen one-hundredths 
pounds of ash. A hundred pounds of wheat straw, 
when burned, leave three and a haK pounds of ash. A 
hundred pounds of potatoes or carrots make less than one 
pound of ash, while the percentage of earthy matter in 
clover is only one and one-half. The quantity of inor- 
ganic matter furnished to the plant by the soil is thus 
seen to be exceedingly small, but it does not follow that 
this small quantity is not of great importance, and they 
have erred egregiously who have maintained that good 
tilth was all the land required to keep up its fertility. 

Fine pulverization is very important to furnish a good 
seed-bed, and to enable the rootlets easily to wander in 
search of food, but some saline food they must find, or they 
wander in vain. In the ash of plants we find some ten 
or a dozen inorganic elements, the principal of which are 
sulphur, phosphorus, potassium, sodium, calcium, alumin- 
ium and silicon, which are found in different states of 
combination, both in the ash and in the soil, but never 
are they found in the air in such a state that they can en- 
ter the plant through the leaves or other superior parts, 
and must therefore enter by the roots. 

However nicely we plow and till the soil, we shall find 
that in a succession of crops, especially if the same crop 
is raised on the same ground, though the quantity of 
earthy matter each crop may require for its sustenance is 
small, yet the land after a time becomes impoverished, 
and the crop can no longer be raised with profit. We 
see, also, from the analysis of plants, that it is not sim- 
ply clay, sand and lime that plants need to find in the 
soil, but quite a variety of food. The dainty little roots 
must have ten or a dozen courses daily, or they complain 
of being starved. Very little of our tillage land is not 



USES OF CLAY IN SOIL. 93 

furnished with an abundance of clay and sand to supply 
the demand of the growing crop for alumina and silex. 
So far as the wants of the plant in its chemical construc- 
tion are concerned, it matters little whether the clay con- 
stitutes 10 or 30 per cent, of the soil, whether sand 
abounds or is scarce. It is true, however, that clay is a 
much better absorbent and retainer of the gases than 
sand, and the general impression that a clay loam makes 
the richest soil is undoubtedly correct. 

The quantity of clay in a good rich loam is, however, 
generally overestimated. The pure porcelain clays, which 
are the richest in alumina, contain only from 42 to 48 per 
cent, of this earth, the balance consisting of silica in the 
state of an impalpable powder. The strongest clay soils 
which we cultivate, rarely contain over 35 per cent, of 
alumina. What we call pure clay consists of a chemical 
combination of alumina, about forty parts, and silica, 
about sixty, with sometimes a small per cent, of oxide of 
iron and a trace of lime. Such a clay of course is unfit 
for agricultural purposes till more sand and some vege- 
table matter are incorporated with it. 

The chemical composition of the soil is not the only 
thing the farmer wishes to study in selecting his farm or 
cultivating his crops. The mechanical effects of clay, 
sand and vegetable matter are almost as important as 
their chemical. When clay is in excess, the land is diffi- 
cult to be worked, cannot be plowed early in the spring, 
and when plowed is apt to bake into rigid lumps, and it 
is almost impossible to produce that fine tilth which plants 
greatly affect. Clay is retentive of moisture as well as 
of gas, and clay lands are apt to be wet and cold. They 
are well adapted to grass, and generally it is better, when 
they are well stocked with grass seed, to let them alone 



94 TO TEST THE QUALITY OF LOAM. 

severely ; certainly their rest sliould not often be dis- 
turbed by the plow. A top-dressing with compost oc- 
casionally, in which muck or sand forms the basis, will 
keep them in good heart. Indeed, the land and the crop 
will both improve under this treatment, and grass will be 
found far more remunerative on a clay soil than corn or 
potatoes. In the course of years, by the decay of the 
grass roots, and by the ameliorating influence of the top- 
dressing, these lands will be found so improved in charac- 
ter that they can be plowed with profit. 

Sand is the perfect antipodes of clay in its mechanical 
structure and effects. Clay is soft and unctuous, sand is 
hard and scratchy ; clay is cold and moist, sand is dry 
and warm ; clay bakes into a compact mass almost as 
solid as stone, sand is always friable. It is in conse- 
quence of its mechanical, not its chemical composition, that 
sandy loam is so generally preferred, for culture by most 
farmers. It can be plowed early in the spring, worked 
immediately after a shower, makes a much finer bed for 
the germination of seeds, allows the roots to permeate 
as they please, allows air and heat to penetrate to the roots, 
and does not expand, contract and crack under the influ- 
ence of heat and moisture. 

What we call a pure sand seldom contains less than 5 
per cent, of clay, and a sandy loam contains from 60 to 
90 per cent, of sand. To ascertain the amount of water, 
sand, clay and vegetable matter in a loam it is simply 
necessary to dry the soil thoroughly on a piece of paper in 
an oven, the heat of which is not sufficient to brown the 
paper. The loss in this process of drying gives the 
amount of water. If the loam is now placed on a shovel 
which is heated to a red heat, the loss will indicate the 
amount of organic or vegetable matter, and the balance 



VALUE OP SANDY SOILS. 95 

will mainly be sand and clay, and the proportions of these 
can be ascertained with sufficient accuracy for all practi- 
cal purposes by boiling in water and allowing the sand to 
settle to the bottom, which it soon does, leaving the clay 
in a state of mixture with the water. When this is 
poured off, the sand can be dried and weighed. The 
weight of the sand subtracted from that of the sand and 
clay together gives the weight of the latter. This process 
gives only the four principal constituents of the soil, and 
makes no alloAvance for the lime, soda, magnesia, iron, 
etc., which must enter more or less into the composition 
of all fertile soils. 

We are inclined to think that full justice has not yet 
been done to sandy soils. We have looked upon them as 
barren disfigurements of the earth's surface, scarcely 
worthy of notice. This is an impeachment of the wis- 
dom of the Creator, who made the sand as well as the 
clay, and when he had finished his work pronounced it 
all good. 

The sandy plains of Cape Cod, Long Island and New 
Jersey have been pretty much left in a state of nature 
to shift for themselves as best they could. If they pro- 
duced a few stunted pines, we accepted the gift ungrate- 
fully and did not ask for more. The experiments made 
with these sandy plains, within a few years, have resulted 
very successfully, and encourage us to hope for still fur- 
ther triumphs. Vineland has been made to bud and 
blossom, if not with roses, certainly with strawberries. 
If clover can be made to grow upon these pine plains, by 
means of plaster and ashes, we see no reason why they 
may not be brought into a high state of fertility with 
more ease than our fathers have subdued the lands cov- 
ered with mighty beeches, oaks and maples. The long 



96 THE SUBSOIL. 

tap-root of the clover brings up fertility from a great 
depth, and, as it decays, leaves the fertilizing material 
within the reach of other plants. These sandy lands,^|p^ 
when once fertilized, are easily worked, and for corn, po- 
tatoes, small frnits, and early vegetables, are exceedingly 
well adapted. We also look for good results in the use of 
sand in the compost heap, and in lieu of litter for cattle. 
We have tried it sufficiently to know that it keeps the 
air of stables pure and healthy, and, for a top-dressing of 
clay lands, we prefer the sand compost to one of muck, as 
it renders the land dryer, and, consequently, warmer. 

We should do injustice to this subject of soils, did we 
not speak briefly of the subsoil. Beneath the surface soil 
through which the plow goes, and in which we intrust 
our seed, often lies another stratum, sometimes of the same 
mineral character as the surface, sometimes having more 
sand or clay, but generally quite destitute of vegetable mat- 
ter. In a mass of loose matter spread over the surface of 
the earth it is easy to understand how the first few inches 
should acquire a different chemical and physical character 
from those immediately beneath, even though originally 
alike. 

On the surface, plants grow and die, and the decayed 
vegetable matter becomes mingled with the clay and 
sand, giving the soil a darker hue and a more light and 
porous nature. On plowed land this mixture is more 
thoroughly made than on the unbroken prairie or in the 
forest, and the distinction between the soil and subsoil is 
more marked. The impression is quite general that the 
subsoil is worth little or nothing for agricultural pur- 
poses. If of the same mineral constitution as the surface 
soil, then by a little care it can be made just as available 
for the production of crops. Oftentimes, by plowing up 



ADAPTATION OF THE EARTH TO MAn's COMFORT. 97 

an inch or two of it, the surface soil is rejuvenated, those 
mineral elements being added which had become in a 
measure exhausted by long cultivation. 

The percolation of water through the earth's surface is 
continually washing the lime, soda, potash and other 
soluble salts into the subsoil, so that it often is much 
richer than it appears to be, and one of the greatest im- 
provements in modern times is the subsoil plow, which 
brings these salts within the easy reach of plants. 

We should not advise bringing too much of the lower 
stratum to the surface at one time, but would prefer test- 
ing an inch or two of it. If found beneficial, more can 
be added afterwards, and no one will dispute the farmer's 
right to go as deep as he pleases, for by his title he owns 
from the surface to the center of the earth, though too 
many farmers are contented with actually possessing only 
six or eight inches in depth. If the surface is clay and 
the subsoil sand, or the reverse, then the mingling of 
these two can not fail to be beneficial. It may not pay to 
cart sand upon clay or clay upon sand from any great dis- 
tance, but when they lie so contiguously that the ploAv 
can do the work of mixture, there can be no question of 
its advantage. 

We have thus given briefly the origin of our soils and 
the different characteristics that they now present. The 
subject is one of great interest both to the scholar and 
the farmer. It is emphatically true that we know the 
physical structure of the earth only in part, but we know 
enough to lead us to adore Him who in wisdom made this 
world for the abode of man. Through long periods of 
time he seems to have been fashioning it for our con- 
venience and comfort. In the oldest rocks, the azoic, 
there is seen no trace of even the lowest order of animal 
5 



98 MEANS OF IMPROVEMENT. 

life. God never works in a hurry. A tliousand years 
are with him but as one day. Gradually the changes on the 
earth occurred, till finally man was made in the image of his 
Creator, capable of tilling and subduing the eartli and hav- 
ing dominion over every Hving thing that moveth. This 
capacity we have not fully exercised, partly from ignorance 
and partly from indolence. The times of ignorance and 
sloth God has winked at, but now commandeth every 
man to study and to practice what he learns. The char- 
acter and capabilities of the soil which he cultivates should 
be one of the first objects of the farmer's attention. The 
Creator has wonderfully adapted the soil for the home and 
support of vegetation, but in this, as in all his other works, 
he has left room for the exercise of human skill and 
industry. He desires that we should share with him the 
pleasure of improvement, and he has furnished us with 
ample faculties for making improvement. The peach and 
the pear did not attain their present lusciousness without 
the intervention of human skill. The margin for im- 
provement in the soil is great, and whoever so cultivates 
it that it deteriorates is a robber. He robs Mother Earth 
of her abihty to supply the wants of future generations. 
What we look back upon with most pleasure in our farm 
life is, that the land which we inherited from our fathers 
is now capable of producing fourfold as much as when it 
came into our possession. 



LEOTUEE FOXJETH. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

FARM DRAINAGE. 






jHE art of draining the surplus water from land has 
II generally been considered a very modern one, and 
^^H in one sense it is modern, but the world has ever 
"^W ' had a system of drainage in its rivers and rivulets, 
and our present system is only carrying out more per- 
fectly, or rather more minutely, the great plan of drain- 
age which has ever been in operation since the rivers 
first began to run into the sea. Both drainage and irri- 
gation, which the scoffers at progress sometimes attempt 
to ridicule as counter to each other, were in successful 
co-operation when Adam cultivated Eden, and a river at 
the same time watered and drained his garden. 

Noah and his family must have watched with no little 
anxiety the subsiding of the waters through those great 
natural aqueducts, the rivers, for though we read that 
" God made a wind to pass over the earth and the waters 
assuaged," still the assuaging does not appear to mean a 
drying up by means of the wind, but only that the sky 
was cleared and the waters were checked, for in the six 
hundredth year of Noah's life, in the second month and 
the seventeenth day of the month, were all the fountains 



100 INTRODUCTION OF DRAINAGE. 

of the great deep broken up, and the windows of heaven 
were opened, and though the rain continued only forty 
days, Noah did not leave the ark till his six hundred and 
first year, first month, and first day of the month. But 
though drainage is taught by nature, and they who scoff 
at it must also scoff at the wisdom of the Great Architect, 
still artificial drainage was imperfectly practiced by the 
ancients. 

The Egyptians knew full well the advantages of irriga- 
tion, and had open ditches to convey water to and from 
the land ; and the Romans had blind ditches, constructed 
of stone or brush to drain their cultivated fields, and a 
very perfect system of sewerage for their cities ; still 
the drainage of land was very poorly understood and 
practiced on a limited scale, till it was introduced into 
England in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. 
Palladius, a Roman writer, does indeed make mention of 
earthenware tubes for aqueducts, but they were used 
simply to convey water from place to place, and not for 
conveying it from the land. 

In 1650, Walter Bligh published " The English Improver 
Improved," in which he advocated deep drainage as appli- 
cable to water meadows and swamps and all other moist 
lands. In his quaint style he brings out some fundamental 
truths, mingled with some error. He says, " And for thy 
drayning, it must be made so deep that it goe to the bottom 
of the cold, spewing, moyst water, that feeds the flagg 
and rush. Yea, suppose this corruption that feedeth and 
nourisheth the rush or flagg should lie a yard or four foot 
deep ; to the bottom of it thou must goe, if ever thou 
wilt drayn it to purpose, without which the water can not 
have its kindly operation, for though the water fatten 
naturally, yet still this coldness and moysture lie^ gnaw- 



PRIMITIVE EXPERIMENTS. 101 

ing within, and not being taken away it eats out what the 
water fattens." 

He goes on to say that when land is thoroughly drained, 
" The goodnesse of the water is as it were riddled, screened 
and strained out into the land, leaving the richness, and 
the leanness sliding away from it." 

Notwithstanding this forcible way of putting one of the 
advantages of draining, the art made little progress in 
England. In 1763, more than a century after the publi- 
cation of Bligh's book, Joseph Elkington, an unlettered 
but close observing man, came into possession of a wet 
farm in Warwickshire. Many of the fields were so wet 
that Mr. Elkington lost several hundred sheep by the rot, 
caused, as he thought, by the excessive moisture of the 
land, and he determined to make it dryer. 

Having a large field of clay kept continually wet by 
the oozing of water from an adjoining bank, he cut a 
trench, four feet deep at the base of the bank, where the 
wet soil commenced, expecting to cut off the supply, but 
to his surprise the field remained about as wet as before. 
Suspecting that his drain was not deep enough, he ran aa 
iron bar four feet deep into the bottom of it, and on 
pulling it out the water flowed in a continuous stream 
from the hole which he had made. 

Pursuing his investigations further, he came to the con- 
clusion that nature has subsoil drains as well as open 
ditches or rivers, and that water passes far below the 
surface of the earth, not only between the different 
strata of rocks but also between the different strata of 
earth, as between gravel and clay ; and that springs are 
formed by these natural aqueducts reaching the surface 
of the earth. From his habit of close observation and 
long practice, Mr. Elkington became so skillful in discern- 



102 NATURAL DRAINAGE. 

ing the strata, that he could trace the course of springs 
when there was no appearance of water on the surface. 

His plan of tapping springs at their fountain-head and 
conducting the water by the shortest course to the natural 
outlet, is certainly a good one if we can only be sure of 
boring for the springs in the right place. The popular 
superstition that a rod of witch-hazel or willow, will in 
the hands of some persons point downwards spontaneously 
when they stand over springs, though having sojne cur- 
rency given to it in the patent office report for 1851, will 
hardly pass for sound doctrine m this last half of the 
nineteenth century. We should much sooner pin our 
faith on the keen observation of such a mind as Elking- 
ton's than all the hazel and willow sticks in the country. 
Though the unlettered Warwickshire farmer drained ex- 
tensive tracts of land for himself and neighbors success- 
fully, awakened a general interest in the subject of drain- 
age, and received from Parliament a grant of a thousand 
pounds for rendering so much waste territory fertile, — 
still his secret seems to have perished with him, and his 
system of drainage is not now practiced, possibly because 
we have not the close observation of its author. 

To James Smith of Scotland we are indebted for laying 
the foundation of the present system of thorough drainage. 
He published the results of his experiments in 1832. Smith 
advocated locating the main drain along the bottom of the 
hollow, with frequent paralleled side drains running directly 
down the slopes into the main, as he maintained that in this 
way only could the strata of the soil, which crop out along 
the hill-sides, be effectually tapped, so as to let the water 
off. Smith, however, made the mistake which most expe- 
rimenters in drainage make, of digging his trenches too shal- 
low, and using stone instead of tile. In 1846 the British 



OBJECT OF DRAINAGE. 103 

Parliament appointed a committee to investigate the sub- 
ject of drainage, and their report embodied the views of Mr. 
Smith, so far as the main and lateral drains are concerned, 
but advocated a greater depth, at least four feet, as more 
thorough, and the minor drains less frequent, the greater 
depth compensating for the want of frequency. The pre- 
ference was also given to tiles over stone. 

Josiah Parkis, the scientific engineer of the Royal Agri- 
cultural Society, about this time published his essays on the 
Philosophy and Art of Drainage, in which he brings out 
the two great benefits of drains ; freeing the land from stag- 
nant and injurious water, and allowing the rains to per- 
meate and fertilize the soil with the rich gases they bring 
down from the air. This latter benefit seems to be the 
same idea that Walter Bligh had in his head nearly two 
centuries previous, when he spoke of the " fattening quality 
of water and its goodness being riddled, screened and 
strained out into the land, leaving its richness, and the 
leanness sliding away." The wonder now is that the idea 
of the " fattening quality of water " should have been so 
slow in its diffusion through English brains. It is, however, 
at length thoroughly diffused, and no country in the world 
is so perfectly underdrained to-day as is England. Half 
a million acres of fen-land in Lincolnshire alone, formerly 
worthless except for goose pastures, are now producing 
large wheat crops, fifty bushels to the acre not being an 
uncommon yield. 

The introduction of thorough drainage in America has 
been as slow as in England. Besides the cheapness of land 
and the high price of labor which operated against its in- 
troduction, the impression was quite common that our cli- 
mate was so much hotter and dryer than that of England, 
that though drainage was essential there, it was not impor- 



104 INTKODUCTION OF TILES IN AMERICA. 

tant here. The idea of the value of drains in a season of 
drouth seemed paradoxical, and was slowly received. To 
John Johnston of Geneva, N. Y., a shrewd Scotchman, we 
are indebted for the introduction of the first tile drains used 
on the farms of this country. In 1835 Mr. Johnston im- 
ported some patterns of drain tiles from Scotland, caused 
the tiles to be made by hand labor, and used them on his 
own farm. The magical effect they produced was seen by 
his neighbors, and faith in tiles spread through Seneca 
County rapidly, and is now as universally diffused over the 
country as is the New York Trihune. Mr. Johnston 
preached drainage as well as practiced it, and Horace 
Greeley has done the same. The clay banks of Albany 
furnished great facilities for the manufacture of tile, and 
this city has thus far been the head-quarters of this now 
staple product. The demand is increasing beyond all pre- 
cedent. The little town of Lenox, in the western part of 
this state, has the past summer made a market for some 
60,000 of the Albany tile. Drain tile are now made in 
nearly all the northern states, and the manufacture is des- 
tined to increase. The country is pretty thoroughly awake 
to the importance of drainage. We formerly thought that 
manure lay at the foundation of successful farming in New 
England, but our later experience has been that the first 
thing that should engage the attention of the farmer is 
thorough drainage, taking from the land all the stagnant 
water to the depth of three or four feet. 






CHAPTER XIV. 

THE ADVANTAGE OF DRAINING. 

(^fr^FTER this brief history of the art, we propose to 
y^ll consider, first, the advantages of draining ; second, 
the lands that need to be drained ; and third, the 
best mode of accomplishing the work. The first 
and most obvious advantage of drains is the withdrawing 
of the stagnant water. Water is good for plants and 
animals in limited quantity. Neither vegetable nor ani- 
mal life can be sustained without it, but only marine 
plants and animals can flourish when submerged. Corn, 
oats and potatoes can be drowned as well as cows, horses 
and men. Drowned is the word that aptly expresses the 
condition of much of the soil of New England. For two 
or three of the summer months it has a chance to come 
to the air and breathe, but for the balance of the year it 
is suffocated, or is in the condition of a dropsical man, 
whose chest is so filled with water that he can only 
breathe with the top of his lungs. If any one has ever 
been afflicted with this dropsy in the chest, or has seen 
another person affected by it, and knows how difficult 
it is for the patient to do any work, hardly having air 
enough to enable him to walk, — he must have a little sym- 
pathy with the land in which, if you dig a hole a foot or 
two deep, water is found collecting at the bottom of it. 
The relief which the human patient feels when the water 
5* 



106 BAINS NEVER INJURIOUS. 

is drawn from his lungs is very analogous to the benefit 
which wet land derives from introducing tiles into it. 

Plants breathe as well as men. The leaves and bark 
perform for the plant much the same functions which our 
lungs do for us. They must have air to elaborate the 
true sap, or the plants die. The roots also need air. If 
a dam is at any time raised so that the water flows back 
and surrounds the neighboring trees, they struggle for 
life like a man perishing with consumption, but eventu- 
ally must succumb. 

The water that submerges and drowns our fields has a 
twofold origin. It may descend from the heavens in the 
form of rain, or it may come from the earth in the form 
of springs. The latter is the water which does most of 
the damage. If the ground is not already saturated with 
spring water, the rains are seldom so abundant that the 
soil wiU not absorb all that descends from the clouds, and 
be greatly benefited by the absorption. The capacity of 
dry soil to absorb water is beyond what is generally sup- 
posed. A cubic foot of naturally dry or well drained 
soil will hold half its bulk of water. Whoever has un- 
dertaken to sprinkle his garden, or even a flower bed, 
with a watering pot, is disappointed at the amount of 
water required, and not less at the tax on the muscles. 
It seems a very easy matter for the Great Cultivator to 
open the windows of heaven and pour down his blessings 
in showers, till there is no longer room to receive them, 
but when man undertakes to water the earth artificially, 
this is work. After laboring till the water runs from his 
body as well as the watering pot, he is surprised, on dig- 
ging into the earth, to find to how shallow a depth the 
water has penetrated. 

We have little to fear, then, from the rains descending 



KAIN AS A FERTILIZER. 107 

too copiously on well di'ained soil. Rains are pregnant 
with blessings to the farmer, provided his soil is in a con- 
dition to receive them. If the land is dry and porous, so 
that the water can permeate to the depth of two or three 
feet, it will leave its " fatness," as Bligh calls it, and the 
" leanness only slides into the drain." The power of the 
earth to absorb the fertilizing material in water is great. 
The most filthy, putrid water, filtered through a stratum 
of good loam, comes out pure and clear. We have put 
drain tile under a barnyard, to prevent the yard from be- 
ing too wet, and to convey the surplus liquid to a neigh- 
boring meadow, and have seldom found the water at the 
outlet in the least turbid. The amount of ammonia 
brought down by rain to an acre of land in the course of 
a year is estimated to be equivalent to that contained in 
300 pounds of guano, a very respectable top-dressing. 

Besides the ammonia, rain water always contains in so- 
lution carbonic acid, which is attracted to the alkaline 
matter, producing disintegration and rendering availa- 
ble as food for plants the resources which nature always 
has on hand, stored away in the soil. To secure the 
advantage to be derived from the fertilizing gases, the 
rain must be permitted to percolate through the soil. It 
will most surely pay for its passage, if allowed the right 
of way. But if th^ land is already saturated with moist- 
ure, then the rains will flow over the surface of the ground, 
or remain in stagnant pools, and that which was designed 
as a blessing will prove a curse. The amount of rain 
which falls in New England from year to year varies 
from forty to forty-two inches, and he that does not pro- 
vide in his soil a receptacle for the vast amount of fertil- 
izing material that this rain brings with it, is either stupid 
or slothful, or amenable to both these charges. 



108 DIFFERENCE BETWEEN KAIN AND SPRING WATER. 

A late popular writer on drainage takes this view of 
rain water, every drop of which, he says, is charged with 
fertilizing matter, and should have a free descent through 
the soil, but rejects all spring water as having already 
performed this mission on other lands, and therefore unfit 
for irrigating and fertilizing purposes as it again oozes or 
bubbles from the earth. We are ready to admit a great 
difference between spring and rain water. Whoever has 
Avatered his land with spring water must have observed 
the poor effect it has, compared with the rains and dews. 
After a shower, especially succeeding a long drought, 
when the au' is surcharged with fertilizing gases, vegeta- 
tion springs up with new life, is clothed with dark green, 
and evidently revels in abundance of food. Not so wlien 
watered artificially from the well or spring, however 
thoroughly the work may be done, unless the water is 
medicated with guano or other manure, when its effect 
may be even greater than that of a shower. Still we 
have seen good results from spring water carried over the 
surface of land which was well drained, and we are not 
prepared to say that it should always be conveyed away 
in subterraneous ducts as worthless. Spring water may 
not contain the gases that the rain is enriched with, but 
it often contains earthy matters in solution which are of 
great value. The analysis of the purest spring Avater 
shows traces of the salts of lime, potash and soda, in 
greater or less proportion, which the water has picked up 
in its passage through soils abounding with these salts, 
and is transporting to where they are more needed. 

We would not advise carrying this spring water, nor in- 
deed any water, on to land undrained, unless naturally dry ; 
but where it can percolate the loam and find gravel or tile 
underneath to prevent its accumulation, we should not 



MINERALS HELD IN SOLUTION. 109 

fear, but rather clioose to conduct it on the surface of the 
earth. As it evaporates it must leave a deposit of enriching 
salts. Every housewife, living in a district where hard 
water, so called, abounds, must have noticed the deposit 
on her tea-kettle, composed mostly of sulphate of lime, 
or gypsum, which is excellent for the land. Some spring 
waters are so impregnated with lime that they will deposit 
a calcareous coating along their channels as they float in 
the open air, and will incrust or petrify solid substances 
which are immersed in them. 

Sea water contains an abundance of saline matter, be- 
cause the springs and rivers are continually dissolving and 
transporting it to the ocean, and there it accumulates ; as 
when the water evaporates and is carried back to the land, 
the vapor is comparatively pure. In such internal seas 
as the Caspian and the Dead, having no known outlet, 
the accumulation of saline matter is still more rapid, as 
the evaporation is greater. The waters of the Dead Sea 
contain nearly one-fourth part of earthy matter, while 
those of the ocean contain from 2200 to 2800 grains in 
the gallon ; and the common spring waters used for do- 
mestic purposes, some 20 to 30 grains. This may be a 
small amount in a gallon ; but when we consider the 
thousands of gallons that issue from springs in a year, we 
shall find it worth saving. Farmers can not afford to 
despise small savings. With them the Scotch proverb, 
** Many a little makes a mickle," must have sway if they 
would enrich their lands, and by means of their land en- 
rich themselves. 

But we have dwelt as long as time will permit upon 
the fertilizing properties of water, when allowed to per- 
colate through well drained soil. The virtues of the air, 
when freely admitted into the soil, are not much inferior 



110 WATER AN OBSTACLE TO DECOMPOSITION. 

to those of water. We have already alluded to its neces- 
sity in vitalizing the sap of the plant, much as it vitalizes 
the blood of our body as the air and the blood come in 
contact in the cells of the lungs. Another important of- 
fice of the air in soil is to decompose the organic mat- 
ter, and fit it to assume new forms of life. So long as 
water surrounds this vegetable matter, it can not decay. 
The same log that extended from the bank into the river, 
from which we were accustomed to dive when in bathing, 
nearly half a century since, remains to this day j)retty 
much unchanged. 

In our muck swamps we find, at the depth of six or 
eight feet, in a very perfect state of preservation, butter- 
nuts which must have lain there for centuries. Logs, 
also, are found at this depth which require an ax to cut 
them. Let these swamps be drained, and the air let in 
upon them, and the vegetable matter rapidly diminishes 
in bulk, and is converted into good rich mold. We look in 
vain for the butternuts when the muck has been placed 
in the compost heap for a month or two. The effect 
is similar when water is drained from land where clay 
abounds, with only a slight covering of a few inches of 
vegetable matter. 

We have much of this land in Massachusetts, filled 
with little hummocks that are striving, like ship-wrecked 
sailors, to get their heads out of water so that they may 
breathe and live. Neither the plow nor the air can cir- 
culate among them, except it be during some drouth, and 
then the circulation is much impeded. The plow is clog- 
ged by the turf rolling up before it, and the air can not 
penetrate the clay, still saturated with water. Put some 
tile into this clay to the depth of three or four feet, and 
the whole appearance and nature of the land is changed. 



LANDS WAEMED BY DRAINAGE. Ill 

The hummocks gradually settle down, the air penetrates 
not only through the superficial stratum, but down into 
the clay, and the vegetable matter can be mingled with the 
clay by the plow early in the season, and a good loamy soil 
be the result. The plow alone can not effect this. 

Air is the great auxiliary which enters the soil as soon 
as the water leaves, and sets about its mission of decom- 
posing all organic matter ; which mission is just as impor- 
tant in the economy of nature as the formation of new 
life. Except the seed die how can it live again, and how 
can it either decay or live without the aid of air ? One 
of the first principles of matter is its inpenetrability ; 
that is, two particles of matter can not occupy the same 
space at the same time. Where water is, there air can 
not be ; but let the water once be withdrawn, and air is 
sure to take possession and accomplish its mission. We 
have seen that common dry soil will take up half its 
bulk of water; of course air, being a more subtle 
fluid, will penetrate among the granules where water has 
been. 

Another great advantage to be derived from draining 
is the additional heat imparted to the land. Wet lands 
are cold lands necessarily, in all climates. The tempera- 
ture of water is very slightly effected, if at all, by caloric 
applied at the surface. The tea-kettle can never be made 
to boil except by having the heat under it. The skaters 
and fishermen upon our lakes kindle a rousing fire upon 
the ice, and pile on the fagots for many hours successive^, 
with little melting of the ice. The reason of this is that 
water is mainly heated by change of place. If the ca- 
loric is applied at the bottom, the particles of water, as 
they become heated, expand and rise to the surface, and 
the colder particles at the top are forced down. If, 



112 EFFECTS OF EVAPORATION. 

on the contrary, the heat is apphed at the surface, the 
particles of water, as they become warm, remain on top, 
and the conduction of heat downwards is so slight that it 
is only by careful experiment that we can perceive that it 
is conducted at all. The vessel in which the water is 
held may so conduct the heat as to render the water of 
nearly uniform temperature, but the conducting power of 
the fluid itself is infinitesimal, so that the sun makes 
slow work of heating a large mass of stagnant water. 

Another cause for wet land being cold, is the amount 
of caloric that passes off in the vapor. Water, exposed 
to the air, is constantly passing from a liquid to a gaseous 
state, and the greater the heat of the air, the greater is 
the amount of water evaporated. A cubic inch of water, 
converted into vapor, occupies over a thousand cubic 
inches; its capacity for caloric is increased a thousand- 
fold, and it must, therefore, absorb caloric from all sur- 
rounding bodies. Both the ground and the air are made 
cool by evaporation. The cooling influence of evapora- 
tion is felt when we apply alcohol or ether to our heads. 
The washerwoman feels it to her sorrow, as she hangs 
out her clothes with wet hands of a cold day, and the boy, 
as he comes shivering in the wind from his bath in the 
lake. So great is the effect of evaporation upon the tem- 
perature of land and air, that we perceive the variations as 
we ride over the country, especially of a summer's even- 
ing, when we strike alternate currents of warm and cold 
air, the warm current coming over dry land, and the cold 
one over the wet meadow or the marsh. 

Dr. Madden estimated that the soil of a drained field 
was six and one-half degrees warmer than a similar soil 
undrained. Few experiments have as yet been made in 
this country to ascertain the effect that drainage has upon 



EFFECTS OF EVAPORATION. 113 

the temperature of soils. Of course this effect will vary 
somewhat with the thoroughness of the drainage and the 
nature of the soil. 

Josiah Parkes, one of the most skillful of the Enelish 
drain engineers, experimenting upon a boggy soil, in the 
fore part of summer, found the drained bog at the depth 
of seven inches ten degrees warmer than the undrained. 
In the hottest days the difference must be still greater. 
The English climate is much moister than ours, and the 
evaporation is consequently less rapid ; but even in Eng- 
land the average evaporation from wet soils is estimated, 
from experiments, to be two inches per month from May 
to August, inclusive. This gives two hundred tons of 
Avater to be evaporated each month from an acre of land. 
To evaporate this amount of water artificially would re- 
quire twenty tons of coal. 

Drainage also elevates the temperature of the soil, not 
only by carrying off the water which would otherwise have 
to be evaporated, but by letting in the warm air and rains. 
Rain may be sometimes cooler than the upper stratum of 
soil, but is generally warmer than the lower stratum, and 
if it has free access to this, as it does in well-drained land, 
it must be heated as it passes through the surface and con- 
vey this heat lower, thus producing an equilibrium. The 
action of the air is similar and more constant. The tem- 
perature of the soil is a subject which needs and will 
pay for further investigation. The soil is subject to less 
frequent and sudden changes, than the atmosphere, but we 
are satisfied that the expansions by heat and contractions 
by cold are trying to the tender roots, and are a prolific 
source of disease, and that drainage not only tends to 
elevate the temperature of the soil, but to prevent those 
sudden changes. 



114 SEASONS LENGTHENED BY DRAINING. 

When our ears are frozen, the damage is not great un- 
less we thaw them out too suddenly, and when a potato 
is frozen in the ground it suffers little, provided there is a 
sufficient covering of soil to prevent the expansion and 
bursting of its cells by a sudden elevation of temperature. 
Potatoes are most liable to rot when a warm, moist period 
is succeeded by a cold one, or the reverse. A wet soil is 
much more subject to these changes than a dry one. We 
have known the soil of a swamp frozen, when the tem- 
perature of the neighboring dry upland was far above the 
freezing point. Drainage will be found a most effective 
means of producing a high and comparatively even 
temperature. 

Drains also lengthen the season at each end, causing 
the vegetation to start a fortnight earlier in the spring, 
and to hold out a fortnight later in the fall. This, in our 
short New England summers, is a consideration of no 
small importance. A few days for the corn crop some- 
times make as much difference as a few inches on a man's 
head. The spring is our wet season, and we often have 
to wait many days for the winds and sun to disperse the 
superfluous moisture from our lands before they are fit to 
plow. The drain disposes of this water much more expe- 
ditiously. When land is thoroughly drained, it becomes 
as dry in two or three days after the frost is out of the 
ground, as it would be in two or three weeks when un- 
drained. The gain in autumn is not much less. We have 
seen buckwheat on undrained land blackened by the frosts 
of September, when on the neighboring dry field the 
blossoms were unharmed. 

Paradoxical as it may appear to those who have not in- 
vestigated the matter, drained land suffers much less, if 
it suffers at all, from the drouths to which we are liable 



DRAINED LAND NOT AFFECTED BY DEOUTH. 115 

in July and August. Experience abundantly proves that 
lands that suffer most from drouth are most benefited by 
draining, and that it is possible so to deepen and mellow 
the soil that the hottest and dryest period joroduces 
scarcely a perceptible effect on the growing crops. The 
lawns of the Central Park, where tile have done their 
perfect work, seem to pay as little attention to the drouth, 
as the ox does to the fly on his horn. They are always 
green, Avhether the heavens are brass or not, though they 
are located among the rocks, where we should expect to 
see brown fields occasionally. There is no witch-hazel 
mystery about this. There is always the same amount of 
water in and about the earth, in summer and winter, in 
seasons of flood and in seasons of drouth. What the soil 
loses in a hot, dry time, the air gains, and, like a faithful 
banker, the air is ever ready to honor the drafts which the 
soil may make for its deposits. The vapor is kept in the 
air by means of heat ; and whenever the air comes in con- 
tact with a substance cooler than itself, it loses its heat, 
and must lose some of its moisture, as its capacity for 
holding water is diminished, in the same manner that 
the capacity of a rubber ball is diminished when con- 
tracted. Hence the deposit of dew upon the ice-pitcher, 
in the middle of a hot summer day, and a similar deposit 
at night upon the grass. When the land is drained, so 
that the air can circulate among the lower and cooler 
strata, the same deposit must be made of moisture, and it 
is made where it is very convenient for the roots to receive 
it. By experiment it has been found that a thousand 
grains of common dry soil absorb in the course of a warm 
summer day 22 grains of water ; loamy clay absorbs 26 
grains ; and good garden soil, 45 grains. 

Besides this power of absorption from the air, well 



116 BOOTS STRIKE DEEP IN DRAINED LANDS, 

drained and pulverized earth brings up moisture from be- 
neath, when occasion demands, by capillary attraction, in 
the same manner that a sponge takes up water, or a lamp 
wick conveys oil from the bottom of the lamp to the 
point of combustion. These are wonderful provisions of 
nature, and beautifully illustrate the princij^le that Prov- 
idence helps those who help themselves. The same air 
floats over the drained and undrained farm, but deposits 
its refreshing and fertilizing moisture only in the soil to 
which it has free access. 

But the great benefit, which drained or deep soil prob- 
ably has, is the depth to which the roots of plants are 
permitted to run. If the roots are confined to the sur- 
face, they must necessarily be parched in a hot, dry day. 
Crops, like sheep, delight in a wide range. If a cold, 
watery subsoil does not intercept their downward march, 
they will forage to the depth of four, five, and even six 
feet. When they penetrate thus deeply, they are in the 
situation of a man with a surplus capital to draw upon 
when a drouth in the money market occurs. When roots 
run down three or four feet, the surface of the soil may 
be dry and they are not affected. 

It was in allusion to this deepening of the soil by 
drainage, that Emerson, in an address at Concord, once 
playfully but truthfully said, " Concord is one of the oldest 
towns in the country, far on now in its third century. 
The selectmen have, once in five years, perambulated its 
bounds, and yet, in this year, a very large quantity of land 
has been discovered and added to the amcultural terri- 
tory, and without a murmur of complaint from any neigh- 
bors. By drainage we have gone to the subsoil, and we 
have a Concord under Concord, a Middlesex under Mid- 
dlesex, and a basement story of Massachusetts more val- 



EXTENSION OF TERRITORY DOWNWARDS. 117 

liable than all the superstructure. Tiles are political y 
economists. They are so many young Americans, an- 
nouncing a better era, a day of fat things." 

We wish that the desire of more land, the easily beset- 
ting sin of farmers, could be directed to extending their 
dominion perpendicularly instead of longitudinally. Their 
title gives them possession to the center of the earth, but 
practically they possess only a few inches of the surface. 
This subsoil costs nothing but a little labor in its redemp- 
tion from its sunken, degraded position, requires no addi- 
tional fencing, and when paying heavy interest on the price 
of redemption, is seldom thought of by the assessor. 

Massachusetts has a small superficial area in compari- 
son with some of her sister states, but she sustains the 
greatest population in proportion to her area, and can be 
made to sustain a still larger by draining and deeper tillage ; 
and the increasing demand for agricultural products war- 
rants an increased outlay in bringing to light the treasures 
of fertility which are now hid in the subsoil. The great 
agent that unlocks these treasures is the oxygen of the 
air, and this must have free access and free play down 
deep in the hidden recesses, and it will prepare the way 
and be a sure forerunner for the roots of plants. 

We have time to allude to only one more advantage to 
be derived from thorough drainage, and this is the in- 
creased dryness and purity of the air. This is more 
strictly a hygienic than an agricultural benefit ; but health 
being one of the greatest blessings of life, it must not be 
neglected by the farmer. The abundant crops of the 
rich bottom lands of the West are a poor compensation 
for the chills and fever which are there generated. For- 
tunately, most of New England is naturally so well 
drained, by her rapid running rivers and brooks, that 



118 DRAINAGE AN AUXILIARY TO HEALTH. 

we seldom shiver and shake from the peculiar malarious 
fevers which infest extensive marshy districts ; still we 
have the more deadly typhoid fever, and every precaution 
should be taken to avoid this scourge. A dry atmosphere 
is one of the greatest promoters of health, and dry air can 
only be secured where there is a dry soil. It is a mistake 
to suppose that the air of our mountain towns is always 
pure. Marshes and wet meadows and pastures are about 
as abundant on the mountains as in the valleys, and fevers 
are by no means confined to the lowlands. 

Doctors disagree as to the nature of malaria, but they 
agree in assigning its origin to wet, marshy places, and 
in asserting that the health of a country is promoted by 
making the soil dry. A late writer, Dr. Salisbury, in the 
American Journal of Medicine^ claims that he has discov- 
ered the cause of malarial fever in the spores of a very 
low order of plant, Avhich he collected on plates of glass 
suspended over marshes, and which he asserts are carried 
in suspension only in the moist exhalations of wet lands. 
This theory may need further confirmation, but the gen- 
eral principle that dry air is conducive to health, is fully 
confirmed, and if any farmer has a current of damp air 
sweeping over his premises, he will drain his land, if he 
puts a just estimate on the blessing of health. 




CHAPTER XV. 

WHAT LANDS NEED DRAINING. 

^HE next topic, what lands need draining, we must 
II pass over briefly. We can not agree with Horace 
^^f@ Greeley, Avho affirms that all lands worth plowing 



^ 



^ will be improved by draining. We have vast 
tracts of sandy loam, and even of clay loam, — where 
there is underlying sand or gravel, — that is good plow-land 
and needs no tile, for it is sufficiently drained already. 
Still we think much more land can be improved by drain- 
age than is generally thought. 

At first it was supposed that swamps, marshes and hill- 
sides abounding with springs, alone needed draining, and 
open ditches were the only means for drawing off the 
superabundant water ; but as experiments and observa- 
tions continued, and blind ditches were introduced, it was 
found that clay lands and clay loams, and even sandy 
loams, when the subsoil was of a hard clay nature, were 
greatly benefited by tile. More upland by far is now be- 
ing drained than swamps and low boggy lands. In addition 
to the question of improvement, the Yankee always asks, 
"Will drainage pay?" and as the question of profit is 
intimately connected with that of improvement, we will 
consider them together in discussing what lands should be 
drained. In the neighborhood of cities and villages, where 
land is worth $100 or more per acre for tillage, it will pay 



120 EXTERIOR EVIDENCES. 

to drain when it will not pay where good land can be 
bought for what the draining costs. Health, too, may 
require drainage where pecuniary profit may not demand 
it. A field also may be so situated that we desire to keep 
it as a permanent meadow, and in this case drainage may 
not be as necessary as where the plow is to be used. 
Grass will grow and pay a profit where corn and potatoes 
will not. 

It is difficult to lay down rules of universal application 
on this sul)ject. The observation and good judgment of 
each individual must guide him in his individual labors. 
Most generally we can determine by the surface indica- 
tions of the soil, whether it needs to be honey-combed 
with tile or not. Bildad, the Shuhite, in his talk with 
Job, gives us one observation worthy of consideration 
here : '' Can the rush grow up without mire ? can the flag 
grow without water?" The character of the herbage is 
determined very much by the nature of the soil. 

We do not find tall timothy nor rank clover growing 
where the water-table comes near the surface of the 
ground. Where the land cracks in a time of drouth, or 
the mouse-ear grass, or the coarse aquatic grasses and 
herbs grow, there we should use the tile before we should 
the plow, and we are inclined to think that the so-called 
diviners, who go over the land with witch-hazel sticks in 
their hands to point out where wells can be dug, are more 
governed by their keen eyes than by the hazel sticks. 
They sometimes submit to be blindfolded, but they man- 
age to get an observation, and the simple owners of the 
land are oftener hoodwinked than the self-styled diviners. 
Wherever the clover or the corn leaves are curled in the 
middle of the day or in the time of drouth, it is a pretty 
sure indication that there is not sufficient depth of earth, 



SUEE TEST OF DEAINAGE. 121 

and that the subsoil needs to be penetrated with tile so 
that the air can enter and crumble it. An experienced eye 
will detect in the color of the grass and grain a similar 
indication. The grass has a much lighter green, and the 
grain a tinge of yellow. If water stands on the surface 
for any length of time after a shower in summer, or follows 
the plow after the frost is out of the ground in the spring, 
then tile are absolutely essential for successful tillage. 

Surface indications do not always tell the whole story 
of the wants of the soil, as to drainage. We have seen 
lands that we called good, loamy plow-lands, on high 
gound, too, where the surface water had no opportunity 
to collect, greatly benefited, at least doubled in their pro- 
ducts, under the same cultivation, by the use of tile. 
Digging into these lands, we find the loam to extend 
down only eight to twelve inches, and that under this 
loam a hard pan, consisting of clay, gravel and sand, 
exists, that is almost impermeable to water and impene- 
trable by the roots of plants, and must be picked before 
it can be shoveled. Such a subsoil farmers significantly 
call a hard pan, as it is almost as compact and hard as 
mortar. Such soil, that will produce without drainage 
fifty bushels of corn to the acre, or 150 bushels of pota- 
toes, or 400 bushels of carrots, can, by thorough drain- 
ing and deeper plowing, and with the same amount of 
manure, be made to produce 100 bushels of corn, 300 of 
potatoes, or 800 of carrots. Not many years will be re- 
quired on such a soil for the increa,sed products to pay 
for all the outlay in drainage. The increased crop of car- 
rots in one season will often leave a balance after paying 
this outlay, and the investment is one that lasts as long as 
well laid stone walls last. 

One of the best tests of the necessity of drainage, is 
6 



122 HOW TO DRAIN LAND. 

to dig a hole to the depth of three or four feet, and if in 
the spring, when the frost is fairly out of the ground, or 
at any time during the summer when the brooks and 
springs are full, water collects in this hole, we have abun- 
dant proof that this surplus water requires to be carried 
off by tiles. Grass may grow on such lands and yield 
tolerably remunerative crops with good top-dressing, but 
we should expect potatoes to rot, and corn to look yellow 
and feeble, and make poor returns for our labor. 

The expense of draining an acre will vary with the na- 
ture of the soil and the depth and frequency of the drains, 
and is variously estimated at from $25 to |75. Estimating 
the expense at the highest figures, it will take only a few 
bushels of corn or potatoes to pay the interest on the cost 
of the improvement, and whatever surplus is gained over 
the interest may be put down to the account of profit. 
"With the drains thirty feet apart, it will require 1340 tile 
of the usual length of thirteen inches, to drain an acre, 
and the expense of these has generally been $10 a thou- 
sand, making the outlay for the tile 113.40. They cost 
something more in these days of inflated prices, but they 
can and should be manufactured for less, and as the de- 
mand increases, competition will reduce the price to a 
more equitable rate. The labor of putting down the tile 
can be performed by the farm hands, as it requires no 
engineering skill, when the ditches are once laid out, to 
dig them and put in the tile. 

How shall we drain our lands, is a question that admits 
of but one answer. Our fathers tried the open ditches, 
and found them very inconvenient. They were a great 
obstruction to the plow and cart. They wasted much land, 
for besides the amount of land occupied by the ditch, 
originally, the tendency continually was to an enlargement 



ADVANTAGES OF TILE-DEAINING. 123 

by the sides caving in, and they also carried off much of 
the finer portion of tlie soil, which was liable constantly 
to be washed into them. Every spring these open ditches 
required to be cleaned out, or they would soon fill up 
completely. The first cost of open drains may be small, 
but all things considered they are expensive, and with the 
few exceptional cases, where they seem to be necessary, 
we may put them down as among the things that were. 
They were followed by stone drains, which were a great 
improvement on their predecessors, as they did not dis- 
figure nor waste the land. In case the stones lay on the 
surface of the land to be drained, it seemed like killing 
two birds with one stone to rid the land of stones and 
convert them into drains. But stone drains were found 
to be both expensive and liable to be choked with dirt. 
Tile have proved to be a more economical and efficient 
mode of draining, and whoever wishes the usual epithet of 
*' thorough" applied to his draining, will use nothing else. 
The ditches are so easily dug, and the tile are so quickly 
laid, and when laid are so efficient and permanent, that 
even when the stone are on the land to be drained, we 
should recommend the use of tile. If drainage is the end 
we wish to accomplish, and the removal of the stones a 
secondary consideration, we should not run the risk of a 
failure in the main good in order to secure an inferior 
advantage. 

We have said that it requires no engineering skill to 
dig the ditches and place the tile. To locate the ditches, 
so as most effectually and economically to accomplish this 
object, to fix upon the proper depth and the best termini, 
to ascertain the grade and the right intervals between the 
ditches, — these are subjects demanding more mind than 
muscle. There is science in draining, as in every other 



124 ADVANTAGES OF TILE-DRAINING. 

art, and much money has been sunk in ditches that were 
improperly located and constructed. Before undertaking 
any great enterprise in drainage, these subjects should be 
studied. Not every emigrant from the Emerald Isle, that 
can handle a spade and has dug ditches, can tell where 
to locate them. Gisborne well says of the draining con- 
jurers, who are quacks in the science, and whose skill 
consists only in the adroit use of the spade, " These fel- 
lows never go direct about their work. If they attack a 
spring, they try to circumvent it by some circuitous route. 
They never can learn that nature shows you the weakest 
point, and that you should assist her; that 'hit him 
straight in the eye ' is as good a maxim in draining as in 
pugilism." 

There is much truth in this. One of the most frequent 
mistakes of these itinerant quack drainers is to attempt 
to cut off the springs that are oozing from the side of a 
hill, by running a horizontal ditch, where the water first 
makes its appearance. They think that a drain across 
the slope will head off all the water that issues from the 
springs lower down, and forget that these lower springs 
are fed from strata which the upper, horizontal ditch in no 
way affects. 

If the water runs over the slope from some higher 
table-land, as it runs over the apron of a dam, then a 
horizontal drain might intercept it ; but, oozing as it gener- 
ally does from different strata, — located somewhat like 
stairs, — cutting off the water that comes from the upper 
stratum is only cutting off one head of the hydra. Lon- 
gitudinal draining with tiles is nonsense. Water obeys 
the great law of gravity, whether in tiles or out of them, 
and will run out of the lower side of tiles with as much 
agility as it ran into them on the upper. Nature teaches 



METHOD OF TILE-DKAINAGE. 125 

in her great system of drainage tlie true principle : water 
always seeks the most direct course down the slopes. If 
we wish to irrigate lands, we can dig horizontal ditches ; 
if we wish to drain the soil, the tile must be laid directly 
down the slopes. 

But we can not, in one lecture, enter into the minute 
rules of drainage, nor is it necessary. Have they not 
been fully elucidated by English authors, and by Judge 
French and Col. Waring of our own country ? To them 
we must refer you for the details. The subject is one 
that will well repay for thorough investigation. We have 
yet to meet with the farmer who has expressed any re- 
grets at his efforts in drainage. Some acknowledge hav- 
ing made mistakes, but all are delighted with the general 
results of their efforts. There is a pleasure in redeeming 
land from the dominion of water — land given up to cat- 
tails and hard-hacks — and seeing it yield bountiful 
crops for the support and comfort of man, — very anal- 
ogous to the pleasure of the Creator, who, at the end of 
his six long days in fitting this world for the abode of in- 
telligent beings, looked upon his works and pronounced 
them good. 



LEOTUEE FIFTH. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

MINERAL FERTILIZERS. 

T-^HE farmer finds in the soil a bed prepared for the 
[M ^ growth of vegetation by chemical and mechanical 
^K.^ agency. This bed, as we have seen, is the work 
"^^^ of ages. The rocks have been broken down and 
ground by the agency of air, water and ice, chemically de- 
composed, and mixed and distributed by a combination of 
forces under the direction of the great Agriculturist, till 
they have formed that pulverized portion of the earth's 
surface which we call soil, and which is so wonderfully 
furnished with the inorganic constituents of plant-food. 
Man, the final, crowning work of the Creator, can not 
live upon these earthy matters, till they have first passed 
into the lower organization of the vegetable, and clothed 
the earth with a verdure which is so beautiful and useful, 
that we are at a loss which to admire the most, the beauty 
or the utility. In a state of nature, the elements of fer- 
tility are constantly increasing in the soil, whether cov- 
ered with majestic trees, as in our forests, or waving 
grasses, as on our prairies. 

In the case of the forests, the leaves and branches fall 
and decay, and the soil is yearly improved by a rich de- 



VEGETABLE DEPOSITS. 127 

posit of vegetable mould, so that in some mountainous 
districts and on some barren, sandy plains there is no bet- 
ter mode of restoring the soil to its virgin fertility than 
by planting it with trees. In from twenty to thirty years 
we get a growth of timber, and when this is cut off the 
land is found capable of producing good crops for a suc- 
cession of years. The process is very similar on the 
prairie. The grass perishes where it grows, when the 
organic and inorganic constituents are both returned to 
the soil ; or the fire sweeps over the prairie, in which case 
only the earthy matters are left, and the organic are re- 
stored to the air from which they were derived. It might 
seem, in the latter case, that there is no increased fertility, 
as the ashes are derived directly from the soil, and no 
more is returned than was abstracted ; but these salts are 
brought up by the roots from a considerable depth, and 
left on the surface, where they are more available as plant- 
food ; and it must be remembered, too, that the burning 
is not a result of a condition of nature. Prairies never 
take fire from the sun. The burning is always the result 
of human interference, and though the enrichment of the 
soil is slower when the grass is burned than when the 
vegetable mould accumulates by slow decay, stiU the in- 
crease of the salts, in an available state as food for plants, 
is very perceptible. Not so when man tills and crops the 
ground, and carries his crops to the barn^to be fed to ani- 
mals, which, in their turn, are transported to supply the 
wants of the village or city ; or worse still, when the crops 
themselves are thus transported, without first passing 
through the animal economy. y ^ 

Under this artificial cultivation by man, the soil must 
deteriorate, unless special care is taken to restore to it, in 
some form, the elements which the crops carry off. We 



128 EXHAUSTION OF LANDS. 

regret to add that on many, possibly a majority of farms 
in New England, this special care is not taken, and con- 
sequently the lands are growing less and less fertile. In 
the neighborhood of cities and villages the improver has 
taken the place of the exhauster, but in the country 
generally, especially in districts remote from the stimulus 
of manufactures, exhaustion is still the rule. The impres- 
sion with most farmers seems to be, that if the hay and 
coarse products generally are fed out upon the place, and 
the manure resulting, from these is restored to the land, 
the grains, milk and beef may be sold and the farm still 
be kept in its original fertility. 

This is a great mistake. The manure from the coarse 
products is not a full equivalent for the crops yielded by 
the soil. Every bushel of grain, every cheese, and every 
ox sold, must carry off more or lees of the salts of the 
soil. We do not object to the sale of these commodities, 
provided a full return is made to the land for all it yields, 
but to suppose that 1000 pounds of phosphate of lime can 
be removed from the farm yearly, and only 500 returned, 
and that exhaustion must not be the final result, is not 
in accordance with the simple principles of arithmetic. 
Lands naturally rich may endure this process for a series 
of years and not show much deterioration, but exhaustion 
must follow sooner or later where more is given than is 
received. 

Another quite frequent mistake of the cultivator is in 
supposing that some one specific manure is an equivalent 
for the many elements of fertility which the crops carry off. 
Thus we have often heard it said that hay could be sold 
from a farm, if plaster, (sulphate of lime,) could be 
bought to supply the place of the manure which the hay 
would make. Another farmer puts his reliance in bone 



ERRORS IN MANURING. 129 

dust (phosphate of lime), and still another in guano. 
These are all good manures, but the plant can not live on 
lime alone, nor guano alone. The analysis of the plant 
shows that it is composed of many elements, and it must 
be supplied with them all, or it can not live. Where the 
soil is rich in all the elements of plant-food save one, then 
the supply of this one works wonders. Bone dust on an 
old pasture, which has furnished the skeletons of many 
generations of animals, acts sometimes like magic in re- 
storing its fertility. Plaster on some soils has worked so 
effectually, that farmers have thought that it was a sover- 
eign panacea for all the ills the farm is heir to, but after 
a time it loses this wonderful power, and the land becomes 
" plaster sick," as the expressive phrase is. In some parts 
of the country, where plaster for a time was relied upon 
as a substitute for barn-yard manure, it is now discarded 
altogether, and is condemned, as making the father rich 
and the son poor. The simple truth is, that Avhen the 
plaster was first used the land was deficient in the ele- 
ments which this mineral furnished, and the stimulus 
which it gave to vegetation, after a. time exhausted the 
soil of other elements equally necessary. Th« mistake 
was not in using plaster, but in relying upon it as the sole 
manure. 

No plant nor animal has the power of generating the 
materials of which it is composed. That mysterious prin- 
ciple which we call life causes wonderful changes in the 
animal and the plant, but creates no new matter. The 
combinations of the different elements in the vegetable 
economy are exquisitely delicate and accurate, and the 
results are a perpetual miracle. How the plants can work 
up the matter in the soil and the compost, into forms of 
such delicacy, symmetry, and beauty, is a mystery man 
6* 



130 ELEMENTS OF FERTILITY KEQUIKED. 

can never solve. But unless there is iron in the soil the 
plant can not create this element, and can not give its 
leaves and flowers their exquisite coloring. It can not 
convert potash into soda, nor sulphur into phosphorus, 
though possibly it may to a limited extent substitute one 
element for another, when one is deficient. 

One crop may demand more of one element than an- 
other, as the ash of potatoes shows that this crop requires 
an abundance of potash, while the prominent constituent 
in the ash of wheat is phosphate of lime. In manuring 
for these different crops, special reference may be had to 
their special necessities, but let no one suppose that pota- 
toes can thrive upon potash alone, or wheat upon phosphate 
of lime. Other elements are equally necessary as these, 
though not in such abundance, and the plant cannot fur- 
nish them for itself, and droops and dies when they can 
not be found. The power of the mysterious principle of 
life is truly wonderful, but we must not expect too much 
from it. Life, neither in the vegetable nor the animal, 
can create something out of nothing. 

Barn-yard manure, especially where roots and grain as 
well as hay are fed to the stock, must contain more of the 
elements necessary for the reproduction of these crops 
than any other fertilizer, and must ever be the main reli- 
ance of the farmer to keep his land in good condition. 
But even when all the crops are fed upon the farm, there 
must still be a drain upon the fertility of the soil, as we 
have seen in the milk, beef, and other animal products 
sold. Skillful farmers see this, and either buy additional 
manure, or feed more grain and hay than their farm 
produces. 

We once asked an. enterprising farmer, who was feeding 
a large number of beef cattle on corn imported from lUi- 



THE farmer's capital. 131 

nois, if he could afford to buy grain to convert into beef, 
and his significant reply was, " I am feeding my land at 
the same time I am feeding my cattle. I may possibly 
lose a little on the beef, but I shall gain on the farm." 
No farmer can afford to let his land deteriorate. It is his 
stock in trade, the capital on which his business is done. 
We should expect the banker to come to bankruptcy who 
made dividends from his capital ; and the manufacturer, 
who diminishes from year to year his working power, will 
finally have no power to work with. In like manner the 
farmer who exhausts his soil will find his crops growing 
beautifully less, and though he may not become bankrupt 
(farmers seldom fail), still he will have to seek a new lo- 
cation and a virgin soil, where he can keep soul and body 
together, and where the exhausting process may be 
repeated. 

In selecting a location for farming purposes, a man of 
wisdom will look well to its natural fertility and to a con- 
venient market for his products. However fertile the 
land may be naturally, he will not rely upon this fertility 
as incapable of deterioration or improvement, for perfect 
land is as difficult to be found as perfect men. His first 
step in the way of improving the soil will be to drain it 
of its superfluous water, if this may be necessary, and the 
second endeavor will be to maintain, and, if possible, in- 
crease its fertility. If drainage is the fundamental thing 
in good husbandry, as we are inclined to think it is, the 
superstructure consists mainly in the multiplication and 
application of manures. When land is well drained, the 
great secret of great crops is abundance- of manure. A 
manufacturer who has recently turned his, great energy to 
agriculture, lately said to us, " There is no trick in raising 
good crops, if I only have manure enough." This is in a 



132 JUDICIOUS USE OF MANUBES. 

measure true, but some skill is requisite in the application 
of manure and the management of the crop, or else much 
energy and money are wasted. 

Crops, like animals, must be fed, and like animals they 
must be fed judiciously. Not every one that has an 
abundance of feed uses it most effectually in producing 
growth, milk, or fat, according as his object may be in 
feeding. The course adopted to produce the best results 
in one case may not be equally effectual in another. Plants 
differ from animals in this respect : they can not wander 
from place to place in search of food. The roots do, in- 
deed, forage, and where the soil is deep and mellow, as it 
should be, they forage more extensively than is commonly 
supposed ; but still where the seed falls, there the plant 
must grow, and if it does not find sufficient food, withers 
away. The great question with the stock-grower is, " How 
shall I feed my stock so as to secure the most profitable 
return ? " And in like manner the great question with the 
agriculturist should be, ''How shall I feed my crops?" 
The answer is a simple one, — manure them thoroughly, 
manure them discriminatingly. 

In unfolding this answer, we must have a clear idea of 
what manure is. Webster defines it as " any matter which 
fertilizes land ; as the contents of stables and barn-yards, 
marl, ashes, fish, salt and every kind of animal and vege- 
table substance applied to land, or capable of furnishing 
nutriment to plants." It is difficult to give, in a concise 
definition, the full meaning of a general term. The great 
lexicographer should have included mineral with the vege- 
table and animal substances. The time must have been 
when mineral matters only existed on the earth. Then 
came the lower forms of vegetables, and with them the 
lower forms of animal life. 



CLASSIFICATION OF MAKURES. 133 

When darkness was upon the face of the earth, there 
could have been no vegetation, but since the command 
went forth, "Let there be light," there has been a cease- 
less round of animal and vegetable life. Every thing that 
has once lived is designed and can be made to live again. 
Life follows death, just as surely as death is the conse- 
quence of life. From the disintegration of the rocks, the 
decay of vegetation, and death of animals, come forth 
new life and beauty. Rocks, vegetables, and animals are 
the three great sources of fertility, and we will briefly 
treat of manure under the three heads of mineral, vegeta- 
ble, and animal manures, classifying them according to 
their origin. 

No classification is perfect. As it is difficult to draw 
the line between the animal and vegetable kingdom, the 
lower animals having many of the characteristics of vege- 
tables, so the vegetable and animal manures have many 
properties in common, and both contain more or less min- 
eral elements. 

Under the head of mineral manures, we include all sub- 
stances, whether simple or compound, which consist en- 
tirely of earthy or inorganic matter. Phosphate of lime 
and wood ashes will be considered as mineral manures, as 
they are purely earthy matter, though the former is mostly 
derived directl}^ from animals, and the latter from plants. 

Under vegetable manures, we include all substances 
derived immediately from the vegetable kingdom, which 
are mixtures of organic and inorganic matter, as no plant 
grows that has not more or less mineral matter in its com- 
position. Animal manures are also mixtures, and we 
class under this head all those mixed substances derived 
directly from the animal kingdom, as animal excrement, 
hair, flesh, etc. 



CHAPTER XVIL 

CARBONATE OF LIME AND PLASTER. 

^'^^^F the mineral manures, those chiefly used are car- 
bonate, sulphate and phosphate of lime, and wood 




'^( ashes. The two former are obtained directly 
from the rocks, the phosphate mainly from bones 
of animals, and ashes are the saline and earthy remains 
of burned plants, and include more of the inorganic ele- 
ments of vegetation than any other manure, whether 
mineral, vegetable, or animal, that we use. 

Lime is the mineral manure that has been more exten- 
sively used in this country and Europe than any other. 
By some agricultural writers, it is spoken of as the key 
that unlocks the soil, and enables it to pour its treasures 
into the lap of the farmer ; by others, who have tried it 
without benefit, it is utterly discarded ; others still testify 
that it does good for a time, but after a few years' apj)li- 
cation it impoverishes the land. We have no doubt these 
contradictory statements are honestly made, and are the 
true results of actual experiment. Those who have found 
lime so beneficial, have used the right kind on soil that 
was deficient in this element, and it has worked so charm- 
ingly that they are ready to ascribe to it all the virtues 
ever claimed in their lines for the "Elixir of Life," or 
*' Macassar's incomparable oil." 

Those who have perceived no benefit from lime, have 



EXHAUSTION FROM USE OF LIME. 135 

either used magnesian lime, or applied it to soil already 
sufficiently supplied with this element. The complaint 
that lime does good for a time, but in a succession of years 
impoverishes the soil, is well sustained by facts, but the 
lime is not to blame for the deterioration. 

Plants can not live on lime alone. Turnips are good for 
cows, but we should consider a farmer a simpleton, who 
on feeding a few turnips and finding that they increased 
the flow of milk, should conclude to feed his cows nothing 
else. Pure, caustic lime can only furnish one element for 
the support of vegetation, whereas a dozen are required. 
When lime is relied upon as the sole fertilizer, the soil 
must deteriorate rapidly, as the decomposition of the or- 
ganic elements is hastened by contact with it. The gases 
arising from the decomposed vegetable matter stimulate 
the growing crops, which in turn draw more largely on 
the mineral elements, and exhaustion must follow speedily, 
unless the land is unusually rich in all the elements of 
fertility. The exhaustion does not come from the use 
of lime, but from growing large crops with only the re- 
turn of one element for food. Some have supposed that 
lime decomposes the vegetable matter faster than the 
growing plants can take it up. This is possible, but we 
very much question whether there is any waste of the 
gases from this cause on tillable land, as good loam always 
contains sufficient clay and carbonaceous matter to absorb 
all the gases that may be liberated by lime, and to retain 
them till they are called for by the growing plants. On 
barren sands there may be some waste, and if it is possi- 
ble to ruin such a soil, lime, when used without- other fer- 
tilizers, will quickly reduce it to the condition of the 
cursed, barren fig-tree. 

Because the cow fed on turnips alone gives an unusual 



136 CAKBOXATE OF LIME. 

flow of milk for a day or two, but soon pines away and 
dies, it is not righteous judgment to attribute the cause of 
her death to the turnips, neither is it right to attribute 
the deterioration of land to the use of hme. It is only 
one of the many instances where land is starved for the 
want of a greater variety of food. Even guano, the rich- 
est of the commercial manures and containing a much 
greater variety of plant-food than lime, has been found 
inadequate, when used alone, to sustain the fertiUty of a 
field for a series of years. 

Lime is never found in nature in a pure state. That 
which is used in agriculture mostly is the carbonate of 
lime. As it exists in the rocks which we variously call 
limestone, marble, or chalk, the composition is nearly one- 
half carbonic acid, which is easily expelled by heat. A 
hundred jDOunds of dry, pure limestone, when burned in 
the kiln till the carbonic acid is thoroughly expelled, is 
found to weigh only 06 pounds, thus showing that 44 per 
cent, is carbonic acid ; but so great is its avidity for this 
acid, that it is no sooner cool than it begins to absorb it 
from the air again and to increase in weight. Limestones 
are, however, seldom pure. In the best quality, some 5 
per cent, of other mineral matter — chiefly silica, alumina, 
and iron — is found. It is the latter which, on exposure to 
the air, rusts, and causes the stains which so much disfig- 
ure some of our marble buildings. 

But the great defect in the limestones of New England 
is the magnesia, which sometimes constitutes 40 per cent, 
of the rock. Magnesia is one of the elements necessary 
for vegetation, but there are few soils that are not sup- 
plied with the small amount requisite, and an excess of it 
is positively injurious ; and more prejudice has been ex- 
cited against lime from the use of magnesian limestone, or 



ACTION OF LENIE. 137 

dolomite, as it is generally called, than from any other 
cause. Dolomite may make good mortar and good building 
stone, but must be used as a fertilizer with much caution. 

Shell-limes are free from magnesia, and they contain 
also a small quantity of phosphorus, and must be useful 
wherever lime is needed in the soil. It is a common mis- 
take to suppose that land overlying limestone must neces- 
sarily abound with this element. This would be the case 
if soils were made up by the disintegration of the contig- 
uous rocks, but we have seen that soils are the result of 
drift brought from remote localities, and are composed 
of the debris ol a variety of rocks ; thus fitting them for 
a degree of fertility of which they would not be capable 
were they constituted solely of lime, clay, or sand. 
Through the whole length of Berkshire County runs a 
stratum of limestone, which, in the valleys, often crops 
out on the surface, but lime, judiciously applied on Berk= 
shire soils abounding in vegetable matter, never fails of 
doing good service. 

The action of lime in agriculture is threefold. It 
forms the direct food of all plants to a greater or less ex- 
tent. This is shown by the fact that lime is found in the 
ash of every vegetable. Thus an acre producing twenty- 
five bushels of wheat each year, must lose some ten 
pounds of lime ; fifty bushels of oats will carry off twen- 
ty pounds of lime ; twenty tons of turnips, in roots and 
tops, furnish in their ash over one hundred pounds of 
lime; five tons of potatoes (tubers), twelve and one-half 
pounds of lime ; and two tons of red clover, one hundred 
pounds of lime. These amounts will vary somewhat 
with the abundance of lime in the soil, but lime is never 
wanting in any crop, and may therefore be considered an 
indispensable article of food for all plants, some requir- 



138 CttEMICAL AND MECHANICAL EFFECT OF LLMB. 

ine more than others. Johnston estimates the average 
yearly quantity of pure lime taken from the soil by the 
crops at sixty pounds. 

The second great advantage of lime is its chemical ac- 
tion on other substances, neutralizing acids and decom- 
posing the organic matters, both vegetable and animal, 
thus rendering them available as food. This chemical ac- 
tion is probably the cause of its great efficacy in particu- 
lar locations, and two or three principles established by 
long observation, must be remembered in the application 
of this mineral manure : first — that lime has little effect 
where organic matter is deficient; second — that its in- 
fluence is more perceptible when it is applied near the sur- 
face of the ground where the air has ready access to it ; 
and third — that under its influence organic matter rapidly 
disappears in the soil, and when the supply is reduced too 
far, lime ceases to have any beneficial effect. 

The third method in which lime acts on the soil is me- 
chanical. It breaks down a hard, stiff clay, and makes it 
more friable, thus letting in the air and heat. A mucky 
soil it makes more compact. On these two kinds of soil 
the mechanical effect is always good, but on a light, sandy 
loam the effect is often injurious, making more porous that 
which was already too open. 

The amount of lime to be used, and the mode of its 
application, vary so much with circumstances, that it is 
difficult to lay down rules which will be universal. If 
only sixty pounds are carried off annually in the crops of 
an acre, the amount required as direct food for plants can 
not be large, but as it is an established principle that where 
land is rich in mineral elements the amount taken off in 
the crops is larger than where there is only a scanty 
supply, it is not worth while to put the land on a short 



APPLICATION OF LIME. 139 

allowance, especially when lime is so cheap. The indirect 
benefit of lime in decomposing organic matter, and ren- 
dering clay soils more friable, will also compensate for 
liberal doses. One of the best modes to apply lime is to 
slake it with brine, using three bushels of fresh lime to 
one of salt, dissolving the latter in as little water as pos- 
sible. We thus get two more elements of plant food, 
chlorine and sodium. If the lime thus slaked can be 
composted with muck, it will destroy the acidity of the 
latter, hasten its decomposition, and the various com- 
pounds of lime, chlorine, soda, carbonic acid, and the 
salts contained in the muck, can not fail of being benefi- 
cial to land requiring manure. 

If the land on which we wish to apply lime is of a 
peaty nature, then it may not pay to compost it with 
muck, but on clay or sandy loams, its application in the 
compost form will be found far more efficient. 

When used pure, lime often forms in the soil a kind of 
mortar, and the hard lumps do not readily yield food to 
the plant. When mixed with from six to eight parts of 
muck, the caustic effect of lime does not injure the ten- 
der herbage. It can also be more evenly spread, and no 
exhaustion of the organic matter in the soil can follow its 
use, if muck be applied at the same time. Some inex- 
perienced persons make a compost of caustic lime and 
manure, but there is great waste in this method, as the 
lime decomposes the manure rapidly, and the gases pass 
off into the air. It is never safe to put lime in direct con- 
tact with ammoniacal manures, unless an abundance of 
loam, muck, pulverized charcoal, or other carbonaceous 
matter be used at the same time, to absorb the escaping 
ammonia. 

The tendency of lime is to sink into the soil, and hence 



140 SULPHATE OF LIME — ^PLASTER. 

it should never be plowed in, but always applied near the 
surface. The action of lime upon organic matter is sUght 
in the absence of air and light. Air may penetrate to 
some depth in the soil, but light must be confined to the 
surface, and the light of the sun accelerates nearly all 
the chemical changes that take place. The practice of 
the best farmers is to keep all manure nearer the surface 
of the ground than formerly ; certainly this must be the 
practice with lime, if we expect to reap full benefit from 
its use. 

Next to pure lime, the mineral manure most used is 
plaster, the sulphate of lime. This rock is not so ex- 
tensively diffused as the carbonate of lime, and we know 
of no deposit of it in New England, but gypsum can be 
obtained in most places, ground into powder for agricul- 
tural purposes, at ilO per ton. When its action is bene- 
ficial, there is no cheaper manure than this. Plaster con- 
tains two elements of plant-food, sulphur and lime, and 
therefore acts beneficially on a greater extent of land, 
and on a greater variety of crops, than does pure lime. 
The mechanical effects on the soil may not be as great as 
lime, but this defect is more thdn compensated by its ab- 
sorbing power. 

It has been a matter of astonishment with some, how a 
bushel or two of plaster could produce such astonishing 
results on an acre of land. Seven years of plenty have 
sometimes followed its introduction upon a farm, and we 
are sorry to add that seven years of famine have also suc- 
ceeded the years of plenty, when it has been relied upon 
as the sole fertilizer. Farmers have sowed a strip across 
their pastures with plaster, and have for years afterward 
been able to discover the track of the sower by its green 
and luxuriant herbage, and some have even boasted of 



APPLICATION OF GYPSUM. 141 

writing their names on their fields with plaster. There 
is no magic in this. 

Plaster is a compound of sulphuric acid and lime, both 
entering into the composition of vegetables, and is also a 
great absorbent of the gases on which plants mostly live ; 
and when circumstances are favorable for its full effect, 
there is no manure so cheap, so efficient, and so easily ap- 
plied. Sulphur is a constant and apparently necessary 
constituent of the several varieties of grain and grass, and 
is especially abundant in red clover, peas, and beans. 
The analysis of the ash of common meadow hay gives 
about 10 per cent, of sulphate of lime, while the ash of 
clover gives 30 per cent. 

Science and practice agree in prescribing gypsum as the 
special manure for leguminous plants. The sulphur they 
require must be obtained from the soil, and if this ele- 
ment is deficient, it can in no way be so cheaply applied 
to the land as in the form of sulphate of lime. Diluted 
sulphuric acid has much the same effect as plaster, which 
proves that it is the action of the sulphur in the plaster 
which produces the great effect. Gypsum requires much 
water to dissolve it, and in dry soils and seasons it some- 
times fails to produce the effect which is manifest on the 
same land in a wet season. A gallon of pure water dis- 
solves only one-fourth pound of gypsum, and it is only 
when in a state of solution that it can enter into the com- 
position of plants. 

As an absorbent of the rich gases, plaster acts as well 
on dry as on wet lands. Its vutues as an absorbent are, 
however, much more manifest when used in connection 
with ammoniacal manures. Indeed, one of the best modes 
of applying it is to sow it over land that has just been 
top-dressed with compost. Many prefer using it in the 



142 GYPSUM AN ABSORBENT. 

compost heap as it is shoveled over, or in the stables, 
where it prevents the escape of ammonia and keeps the 
air pure. On freshly plowed lands, especially when rich, 
plaster acts with great efficacy as an absorbent ; and for 
the same reason, it should be freely sprinkled over the 
compost heap each time it is shoveled over. On newly 
stocked land, especially when stocked with clover, its 
efficiency is more manifest than on old mowing fields and 
pastures. 

As an absorbent it also acts from year to year, and its 
effect is sometimes more apparent the second year than 
the first. We have found plaster to work admirably when 
applied to plants while the dew is still upon them in the 
morning, or after a shower, so that the plaster sticks to 
the leaves ; and we prefer to use it as a top-dressing after 
the leaves have been pretty well developed. Others 
recommend using it on the late snows of March, that it 
may absorb the ammonia brought down in the snow. 
When lime and sulphur are deficient in the soil, plaster 
must be efficacious, as also where the rich gases are escap- 
ing into the air from the stable, compost heap, or the well- 
manured field. It must also greatly aid in retaining the 
ammonia brought down from the air by the dews and rains. 
Still, it can not be denied, that on some lands, and particu- 
larly those lying near the sea, the testimony is that it does 
no good, and every farmer should test for himself with 
close observation its effects upon his own soil, always re- 
membering that plants can not live on plaster alone. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

PHOSPHATE OF LIME. 

^^^HE mineral manure which of late years has claimed, 
(|!| K ^^^ deservedly so, the attention of farmers, is 
^ffK-o© phosphate of lime. The cattle that graze in our 
^(fe^^ fields derive all the earthy matter, of which cer- 
tain parts of their bodies consist, from the vegetables on 
which they feed. These vegetables, in their turn, must 
derive them from the soil. Phosphate of lime must, 
therefore, exist in the soil, or animals could have no bones, 
and where cattle husbandry is the leading object in agri- 
culture, the probability is that the first mineral constitu- 
ent that will be found wanting is bone-dust. Every ox 
sold from the farm carries off a large amount of this 
essential element of fertility, and it is estimated that the 
milk and veal sold from each cow on an average will make 
an annual draft on the farm for fifty pounds of phosphate 
of lime. Nor is the diminution much less on grain farms, 
for the ash of all the grains is composed largely of bone- 
earth, and with every hundred bushels of wheat sold from 
the farm sixty pounds of phosphate of lime must be de- 
ducted from its capital stock of fertility. 

No wonder that in New England, where we formerly 
raised from twenty to thirty bushels of wheat on an acre, 
it is now difficult to obtain half this quantity ; and that 
the wheat-growing region is fast receding towards the 



144 SAVING OF PHOSPHATES. 

setting sun. The Genesee valley, which once boasted of 
its forty bushels of wheat to the acre, does not now aver- 
age twenty. 

There is no necessity for this deterioration of the soil, 
nor for the emigration which it causes from our exhausted 
lands to the virgin soil of the prairies. Old England 
sustains a much more dense population than New Eng- 
land, and raises more wheat to the acre now, in the mid- 
dle of the nineteenth century, than she did at its begin- 
ning ; and one reason is that she has imported from the 
plains of Waterloo and other localities abounding with 
bone-dust, all the phosphate of lime that could be scraped 
together. If the Thames did not carry to the sea so much 
of the fertilizing material of the metropolis of the world, 
England might sustain a far greater population than she 
does, with less importation of breadstuffs and guano. 

Belgium and China also suffer no impoverishment of 
the soil. The former sustains the densest population in 
Europe, and the latter in Asia, by close husbandry of all 
the resources of fertility. China and Japan have been 
cultivated for long centuries, have imported no guano nor 
phosphates, and the land is as fertile to-day as it was a 
thousand years ago. The sewers of China do not carry 
to the sea all the phosphates that the grains furnish. The 
land is considered as having a rightful claim to all the 
manure, in every form, that the country can yield, and 
this is a just view of the case. It is a species of robbery 
to live on Mother Earth, and expect her to maintain us, 
without giving a full equivalent for our board. It is not 
necessary for us to descend to all the vulgar practices of 
the semi-civilized Chinese, but there are many lessons in 
the arts that we can learn from them, and in no art is 
their superiority more manifest than in that of agricul- 



WASTE OF PHOSPHATES AND AMMONIA. 145 

ture, especially in tlie faithful return to the soil of all the 
phosphates it has yielded. China has comparatively few 
cattle to carry off these phosphates in their flesh and 
bones, and what the grains yield is not wasted by the 
common sewer. 

The American farmer has flattered himself that he has 
done the land justice, when he has returned to the soil the 
manure obtained from feeding out the hay and other coarse 
l)roducts, — many have not even done this much, — while 
the manure afforded by the consumption of grain, far 
richer in ammonia and the salts of lime, has been much 
neglected. Besides the waste from the grains of home 
production, we import thousands upon thousands of bar- 
rels of flour and car-load after car-load of corn from the fer- 
tile prairies, and from a great share of this grain the land 
receives no benefit. From such a consumption of foreign 
products Massachusetts soil should be enriched, till all the 
arable land shall become as fertile as a garden. If Colonel 
\yaring can succeed in popularizing his plan of " earth- 
closets," Y/e shall hope to see some improvement. in the 
preservation of the ammonia and the phosphates, which 
the consumption of so much wheat and corn must yield. 

Bones are at present our great resource for replenishing 
the soil with the phosphates which the crops have carried 
off, and few substances have of late years done so much 
to increase the agricultural produce of England as the use 
of crushed bones. The quantity of earthy matter, chiefly 
phosphate of lime, is always great in bones, but varies 
with the species and age of the animal, and with different 
bones in the same animal. It is less in the young than in 
the mature animal ; less in the spongy than in the compact 
bones. As the animal becomes old, the earthy matter in 
the bones again becomes less. The bones of a freshly 
7 



146 BONES AS A MANUEE. 

slauglitered mature animal are composed of organic mat- 
ter, chiefly fat and gelatine, varying from 40 to 50 per 
cent. ; and inorganic matter, chiefly phosphate and car- 
bonate of lime, varying from 50 to 60 per cent. 

The practice of burning bones before they are used on 
the land is wasteful, as all this organic matter, rich in am- 
monia, thus passes into the air. When bones have been 
burned till every thing combustible has disappeared, what 
remains is chiefly phosphate of lime, composed of 51 1-2 
per cent, of lime, and 48 1-2 of phosphoric acid. Mingled 
with this phosphate there is, however, some carbonate of 
lime and a little magnesia, soda and potash, all useful in 
the soil, .but the main virtue lies in the phosphate. 

Applied directly to the soil in an uncrushed state, bones 
are a long time in decomposing. When they are buried 
around the roots of trees and vines, they slowly decay and 
furnish nutriment for a long series of years. The vital 
energy of the roots probably acts upon the inert matter 
of the bones, and hastens the decomposition. 

If we may credit the newspapers, the roots of an apple 
tree planted over the grave of Roger Williams were found 
a few years since to have penetrated his skull, followed 
the vertebrae of his back, with branches to the ribs, 
divided at his hips, pursued the bones of the legs to the 
feet, and branched off through the toes, so that the roots 
gave a pretty accurate outline of the skeleton of a man. 
, However this may be, we have experimented in placing 
bones at the roots of trees sufliciently to be convinced 
that they thus serve a most excellent purpose. Trees 
can afford to wait for the slow decomposition of bones, 
but in our cereal, grass and root crops we desire a more 
speedy action. This can only be obtained by some mode 
of pulverization, and he will be a public benefactor who 



SUPERPHOSPHATE OF LIME. 147 

will invent some cheap mode of grinding bones, so that 
every farmer, certainly every neighborhood, can manufac- 
ture bone-dust. There is so much adulteration in our 
commercial manures, that pure superphosphate is almost 
as difficult to be obtained as pure French brandy. 

Pounding bones with a sledge-hammer, as we have seen 
some farmers do, is a slow, laborious process, and only 
half accomplishes the object. Finely pulverized bones 
will produce more effect in two years than these broken 
pieces will in ten. The general rule, applicable alike to 
bones and all other fertilizers, is, the finer the manure the 
more immediate is the action. 

Liebig, Johnston, and other chemists, recommend the 
digestion of bones with sulphuric acid diluted with twice 
its weight of water. In pure phosphate of lime or bone- 
earth, we have 72 pounds of phosphoric acid united with 
84 pounds of lime. By adding to this 80 pounds of 
sulphuric acid, the latter acid unites with 36 pounds of 
the lime, forming a sulphate of lime (common plaster), 
leaving only 28 pounds of lime in combination with the 
phosphoric acid. This combination forms biphosphate, 
or, as it is more commonly called, superphosphate of lime, 
which is soluble in water, and acts with great energy up- 
on vegetation. The whole compound thus formed con- 
sists of 100 pounds of superphosphate and 136 pounds of 
plaster. As the superphosphate is soluble in water, it is 
not a lasting manure, but its great energy compensates in 
a measure for this, and if we could only be sure of pur- 
chasing the pure article, we know nothing that can give 
corn, wheat and the cereals generally a better start ; but, 
unfortunately, under the term of superphosphate we have 
as many kinds of spurious manure as we have spurious 
kinds of freedom under the name of liberty. 



148 DISSOLVING OF BONES. 

Every farmer can manufacture his own superphosphate, 
and thus be sure of a genuine article ; but as the handling 
of sulphuric acid is not always safe, we have preferred to 
dissolve our bones in wood ashes. If in a tight cask a 
layer of bones three or four inches in thickness be placed, 
and on these a layer of ashes of the same thickness, and 
so on in alternate layers, and the whole kept moist for six 
or eight months during warm weather, the bones will be 
found so dissolved that they will readily crush under the 
shovel. This compost may not act with all the energy of 
superphosphate, but it is a much more permanent manure, 
and can not fail of being beneficial on all soils and to all 
crops, as it contains all the mineral elements of plant-food. 

The most economical mode of applying this compound 
of bones and ashes is to compost it with muck, as it 
hastens the decay of the vegetable matter by its catalytic 
and chemical influence, and the whole mass becomes one 
of the richest forms of manure, of which we may never 
fear our lands will become sick. By all means save the 
bones, and save them fresh with their sinews still upon 
them, for they can be made the bone and sinew of the 
land as they have been of the animal. 

In some parts of the world a native phosphate of lime, 
called apatite, has been found in considerable quantities. 
It differs but slightly from the earth of bones in its com- 
position, containing a little less phosphoric acid and two 
or three per cent, more of lime. It has been known and 
used in England for j-ears, and has recently been found in 
large quantities near Charleston, in South Carolina. Inex- 
haustible stores of this mineral seem to be stored away 
in the soil between the Ashley and Cooper Rivers, and if 
it fulfils all it promises, this native phosphate may do for 
agriculture what the coal beds have done for manufactures. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

WOOD ASHES AS A MANURE. 

^E have time to consider only one more mineral 
manure, and that is wood aslies, which we think 

^ have been generally undervalued, as they con- 
■ -^-"^ tain, not one or two elements of plants, but a 
dozen. We are apt to think of ashes as furnishing only 
potash, as this is the substance for which they were for- 
merly mainly valued ; but the ash of all plants consists 
of a mixture, in variable proportions, of carbonates, sili- 
cates, sulphates, and phosphates of potash, soda, lime 
and magnesia, with certain other substances in smaller 
quantity, but doubtless necessary to vegetable growth. 

The analysis of the ash of red beech gives, for exam- 
ple, twelve different elements and compounds, as follows :* 
Silica 5.52, alumina 2.33, oxide of iron 3.77, lime 25, mag- 
nesia 5, potash 22.11, soda 3.32, sulphuric acid 7.64, phos- 
phoric acid 5.62, chlorine 1.84, oxide of manganese 3.85, 
carbonic acid 14. Such a combination of the mineral ele- 
ments of plant-food we look for in vain in any other ma- 
nure. Lime may fail of benefiting some soils ; but we 
have never known wood ashes to be complained of as in- 
efficient. They contain so many of the ingredients of 
plants that if the soil is lacking in any one element, they 
are very sure to supply it. They are as well adapted to 



150 BENEFIT OF COMPOSTING ASHES. 

supply the deficiencies in the soil as Brandreth's pills are 
to cure the ills of the body. 

The ashes of different woods, grasses, roots and grains 
give different proportions of the above elements and com- 
pounds, but agree in giving nearly the same variety. Oak 
wood makes an ash that gives less potash than beech, and 
pine still less than oak. Turnips make an ash rich in phos- 
phate of lime, and red clover ash abounds in sulphate of 
lime. Hence we see the propriety of the English prac- 
tice of manuring turnips with wood ashes, mixed with 
bone-dust, and of the American practice of sowing plaster 
on red clover, as the ash of these crops shows that they 
require these specific manures. The ash of all leguminous 
plants, as peas and beans, as also the ash of potatoes, is 
rich in potash, and to these crops unleached ashes from 
hard woods should be applied. 

Like other mineral manures, ashes are deficient in am- 
monia and carbonaceous matter, but as these are mostly 
derived from the air, some chemists have claimed that all 
that is requisite to maintain and increase the fertility of 
the soil is to furnish it with these mineral elements. We 
do not find it so in practice. Applied to poor, light, sandy 
soils they may produce great results for a year or two, but 
unless some carbonaceous and ammoniacal manure is fur- 
nished, exhaustion follows, and the last state of this land 
is worse than the first. The soil is rapidly deprived of its 
vegetable matter, and has little ability to absorb and retain 
the ammonia of the air. The mechanical effect of the' 
carbonaceous manure is also wanted to render the soil 
porous, and good forage ground for the roots of plants ; 
so that, highly as we value ashes, we can not recommend 
them as omnipotent in maintaining the fertility of the 
farm. 



ASHES FURNISH MINERAL MATTER. 151 

We have found it the most efficacious mode of using 
ashes to compost them with muck or leaf mold from the 
forest. In this way the decomposition of the muck or mold 
is hastened, and the supply of carbonaceous matter in the 
soil is kept up. A bushel of ashes with five or six bushels 
of muck will make a compost fitted for all soils, where 
vegetable or mineral matter is deficient, and there is no 
fear but that every crop the farmer raises will appre- 
ciate the rare combination of virtues found in such a com- 
post. The ashes will furnish the mineral matter neces- 
sary for the skeleton of the plant, and the muck will aid 
in clothing this skeleton with carbon. 

Some farmers may suppose that because so little ash is 
left when a plant is burned, — only a half per cent in case 
of wood, and two or three per cent in case of grain, — 
that the ash is of trifling consequence. They might as 
well suppose the bones of their body of small account. 
Weighed in the balances, the skeleton of the plant, like 
the skeleton of the animal, may not figure largely, but 
the value of an article can not be measured in avoirdu- 
pois. The brain weighs little in comparison with the 
whole body, but we do not esteem it the less highly on 
this account. The table salt that we eat constitutes a 
very small portion of our food, but it is none the less es- 
sential. 

The salts of lime, potash, magnesia and soda must con- 
stitute the frame-work of our bodies, or we should be de- 
graded to the level of slugs, — snails without a shell. All 
animals derive their frame-work originally from vegeta- 
bles, and the vegetable must have it, or it can not impart 
it to the animal, indeed can not elevate itself from the 
ground. 

Where ashes are scattered plentifully, every farmer must 



152 LEACHED ASHES. 

have noticed how much more erect and firm the straw of 
his wheat or oat field is. It does not *' lodge," as the farm- 
ers' phrase is. The grains are equally benefited with 
tlie straw. They are larger, fuller, and richer in the 
elements of nutrition for animals. If we feed our soils 
richly with these inorganic elements, they will feed us 
richly. 

V/e desire also to say a word for the much neglected 
and undervalued leached ashes. When our fathers cut 
down the ]3rimeval forests of Massachusetts, they felled 
the trees in rows, burned them, gathered up the ashes and 
leached them to extract the potash ; that was exported, 
and the remainder was cast out as worthless. They 
seemed to think that potash was the only ingredient of 
ashes worth saving, and we have imbibed the prejudices 
and followed too closely the example of our fathers. 

The truth is, only one of the many constituents of 
ashes is lost by leaching, and of this one, potash, only 
four-fifths are taken away in the common process of leach- 
ing, and one-fifth still remains for the benefit of the soil. 
The silicates, sulphates and carbonates are practically 
insoluble, and remain in their integrity after the leaching. 
Berthier found, on analyzing the ashes of beech wood 
that had been thoroughly leached by himself, the follow- 
ing ingredients : Silica, 5.8 ; lime, 42.6 ; magnesia, 7 ; 
oxide of iron, 1.5 ; oxide of manganese, 4.5 ; phosphoric 
acid, 5.7 ; carbonic acid, 32.9. It will be perceived that 
the phosphate of lime, one of the most valuable of the 
components of ashes for agricultural purposes, is not di- 
minished, being insoluble. It is to these insoluble com- 
pounds that ashes are indebted for the permanent effects 
they are known to produce upon land. The potash and 
the soda may be pretty much used up the first year, but 



CHEAPNESS OF ASHES AS A MANURE. 153 

the phosphates, silicates and sulphates will last for an 
indefinite length of time. 

We have known the land in the neighborhood of an 
old ashery to show the good effects of ashes for half a 
century after the potash kettle was removed; and we 
have questioned whether the lasting benefit of a coal-pit 
was due entirely to the refuse charcoal left behind. In 
burning the coal, more or less of the carbon must get so 
much air as to be consumed, and the ashes must be left, 
which, in combination with the almost imperishable char- 
coal, make a compost much like what we have recom- 
mended of ashes and muck, for muck and charcoal are 
only different forms of carbon. Unless the ashes have a 
part to play in the fertility of a coal-pit bed, we can not 
understand how the grass can flourish there for fifty 
years, and possibly a century, without exhausting the 
mineral elements of the soil. The charcoal may continue 
to absorb the enriching gases of the air, but the earthy 
materials, it would seem, would become exhausted. 

Wood ashes have been sold in Massachusetts for from 
ten to twenty cents a bushel, and at this price we 
know of no manure better deserving the attention of the 
farmer. Leached ashes have of late years commanded 
half the price of unleached, and for agricultural purposes 
they are worth almost as much, as the potash is not wholly 
exhausted, and the phosphate of lime and other valuable 
salts are left in their integrity, only condensed into a nar- 
rower compass, so that in a bushel more is embraced. The 
small quantity of charcoal found in most ashes is not with- 
out its value, but the carbonaceous matter can be more 
cheaply furnished than by purchasing it by the bushel. 

Another saline manure within the reach of most farm- 
ers, and still much neglected, is common salt. This is 
7* 



154 SALT AS A IVIANUPwE. 

a compound of chlorine and sodium, both of which are 
elements necessary in all vegetation, and must be obtained 
from the soil. If the soil already contains a sufficiency of 
salt, or of chlorine and soda in any other form of combi- 
nation, then an application of salt will do no good. Such 
are the lands that lie along the sea-coast, or are most ex- 
posed to prevailing sea winds. Over such districts the 
spray of the sea is borne by the winds, or is lifted high in 
the air and descends in the rains. Very contradictory 
statements are made by those who have experimented in 
the use of salt, some lauding, others condemning it. Such 
contradictions are easily accounted for, and should not 
deter inland farmers from further trial. Some crops 
require more salt than others, and we have no doubt 
that most of our inland farms would be benefited if the 
refuse brine, which is now poured out at the back door of 
the merchant as a nuisance, should be placed on the com- 
post heap of the farmer. The fact that cattle are so 
greedy for a little salt with their forage proves that the 
crops do not contain enough to supply their demand. We 
need further experiments on this saline manure, and we 
commend it to the intelligence of Massachusetts farmers. 
We have thus run over briefly the principal mineral 
manures within the reach of the farmer. The subject is 
one of paramount importance, and has been too much 
neglected. As surely as we are made of dust, and to dust 
must return, so surely we must be careful to return to the 
soil the dust or earthy matter which we subtract from it in 
our crops, if we desire to transmit to our posterity, with 
unimpaired fertility, the lands we have inherited from our 
fathers. 



LEOTUEE SIXTH. 



CHAPTER XX. 

MANURES, VEGETABLE AND ANIMAL. 

IN pursuing the subject of manures, we come to con- 
-aSIi ^^^^^ those that are mostly of a vegetable nature ; 
^S^S we say mostly, for no vegetable grows that has not 
M'^ mineral elements in its composition. Too much 
importance can not be attached to the necessity of restor- 
ing to the soil, in some form, all that the soil gives us. In 
a state of nature, under the direction of the Great Hus- 
bandman, this restoration is fully made ; and by the decay 
of vegetation on the surface of the earth, the soil is con- 
stantly ameliorated. Under the care of man, the crops 
are removed for the purpose of feeding man and beast, 
and the soil is consequently impoverished. 

Nature's mode of enriching the earth is manifestly by 
restoring the vegetable matter directly to the soil, with- 
out passing it through the animal economy, whereby a 
large portion of it is converted into bones, muscles, hair, 
etc. If only the excrement is returned to the soil, there 
must necessarily be a loss of fertility to the extent of that 
which goes to the support of the animal. 

What the land loses, however, the animal gains, and as 
we can not cultivate the soil with a sole reference to its 



156 GREEN MANURING. 

fertility, but must live upon the crops we raise, we have 
long been convinced that there is a more excellent way of 
maintaining the productiveness of a farm than by plowing 
in the green herbage. This may answer in rare instances, 
where the soil is extremely poor, or located at such a dis- 
tance from the barn-yard that the carting of manure upon 
it is expensive ; but to do it as a general rule would be 
like a bank's adding all its profits to the capital stock, and 
making no dividends. Few farmers can live without 
their annual dividends from their lands. 

By green manuring is meant the growing of crops and 
plowing them in while in a green state, for the improve- 
ment of the land. This is not, as some suppose, a modern 
practice. Both the Greeks and Romans were well ac- 
quainted with it, and it is not unlikely that it was prac- 
ticed by more ancient nations, as it is a mode easily learned 
from nature, and one better adapted to an early than to 
an advanced civilization. The Belgians have done the 
most of any modern nation in enriching their soil by plow- 
ing in green crops, and they have certainly been very suc- 
cessful in bringing their lands to a high state of fertility. 

Some may question how land can be increased in fer- 
tility by merely restoring its own products, but we must 
remember that the atmosphere is the great reservoir from 
which the plant draws its carbonaceous matter, and if this 
is plowed into sandy fields, such as the plains of Flanders 
originally were, they can in time be converted into a fer- 
tile loam. The roots of some j^lants also extend to a great 
depth, and bring up from thence mineral elements to en- 
rich the surface and furnish a good bed in which other 
plants, whose roots are less roving, can luxuriate. There 
can, therefore, be no question but that green manuring en- 
riches the soil. The only question is one of economy. 



CLOVER AS A GREEN MANURE. 157 

We have no doubt that on sandy lands, remote from ordi- 
nary resources for manure, there is no more convenient 
mode of restoring fertility than by sowing some broad- 
leaved plant, which will draw largely from the atmosphere, 
and, when the herbage has attained its full growth and 
before the seed has developed, plowing it under. The 
two crops most commonly used as green manure, in this 
country, are red clover and buckwheat. 

The former has numerous stems, broad, succulent leaves, 
and long, thick tap-roots, and where the soil is strong 
enough to produce it, or can be made strong enough by the 
application of plaster or ashes, clover is probably the best 
crop for green manuring that can be raised. Its tap-root 
is especially valuable, as it penetrates the subsoil and brings 
up the saline matters, which are thus made available for 
the succeeding grain crops. If clover can be made to 
grow on land, there is no fear but that other crops can be 
made to succeed it. It is estimated that the clover roots 
and leaves grown on an acre, will furnish from five to seven 
tons of vegetable matter, and impart to the soil as much 
strength as ten or twelve loads of barn-yard manure. 

The land is made mellow and permeable to heat and 
air, not only by the decay of the vegetable matter plowed 
under, but the long roots, as they perish, must render the 
subsoil more porous. Practice fully confirms this theory, 
as corn, oats and wheat, are uniformly productive on a clo- 
ver ley. Whether it may not be more economical to mow 
the first crop of clover and plow in the second, or feed 
both crops to cattle and return the manure to the land, 
each farmer must judge from the circumstances of his sit- 
uation. If the land is near the barn, we should certainly 
feed the clover to the cattle, and feed the land in some 
other way. 



158 BUCKWHEAT AS A WEED-EKADICATOR. 

Where it is desired to eradicate weeds or thistles from 
the soil, as well as increase the fertility of the land, we 
know of no crop equal to buckwheat. It requires but 
little seed, as its stems branch in every direction ; it grows 
rapidly where corn would starve, and quickly shades the 
ground so as to smother all other vegetation. If sown 
early, two crops can be grown in one season, and the 
three plowings which the two crops involve, together 
with the vegetable matter turned under, render the land 
exceedingly friable and mellow. 

In the western part of this State, we have much poor 
land, overgrown with what is locally known as hardback 
(j)otentilld)^ a low bush fit only for barn brooms, and very 
difficult of eradication; but if the hardbacks are not so 
thick that the land can not be plowed, we have never 
known buckwheat to fail in coming off victorious in a con- 
test with them. 

The Canada thistle, another thief, that steals the fatness 
of the land and is armed with many lancelets, can not 
stand its ground in a fair fight with buckwheat. It may 
renew the strife after one or two defeats, but is sure to 
succumb finally. Buckwheat derives more nourishment 
from the air, and makes less draft on the mineral elements 
of the subsoil, than clover, and which of these two crops 
to select as a green manure, must be decided by the nature 
of the soil to be benefited. We have found succeeding 
crops to do much better after clover than after buck- 
wheat, but as an eradicator of interloping weeds, buck- 
wheat is the champion crop. 

We have, however, other fertilizing vegetable sub- 
stances, — and most farmers have them in abundance, — 
the use of which does not involve the loss of one year's 
crop. The first we will mention is the leaves of trees. It 



CONSTEUCTION OF LEAVES. 159 

is by the aid of leaves, mainly, that our forests are annu- 
ally enriched, so that in the course of thirty or forty years 
an acre of poor land, planted with forest trees, will yield 
fifty or sixty tons of wood (mostly carbon), and when the 
wood is cut off, the soil is found rich in carbonaceous 
and saline matter — in fact, restored to a state of virgin 
fertility. 

We should consider this result almost miraculous, did 
we not see the process constantly going on in our forests. 
It is no miracle in the theological sense of the word, as it 
is no contravention of the laws of nature, but is brought 
about by the ceaseless action of the thousands of pores in 
each of the ten thousand leaves on the tree, which are 
continually during the day absorbing the carbonic acid 
from the air, retaining the carbon and throwing off the 
oxygen. 

During the night this process is Reversed, and the air 
becomes less vitalized with oxygen, but as the day is much 
longer than the night during the season of vegetable 
growth, there is a large accumulation of carbon, and it is 
from the air it is mainly derived. At the same time, the 
rootlets, little microscopic hairs, are sucking in the min- 
eral elements from the depths of the soil in a soluble state. 
The number and ceaseless activity of the pores of the 
leaves is wonderful. On a single square inch of a lilac 
leaf, one hundred and twenty thousand pores have been 
counted, and the rapidity with which they act is so great, 
that a current of air passing over the leaves of a healthy 
growing tree is almost immediately deprived by them of 
the carbonic acid it contains. 

These pores also absorb ammonia and other gases, as is 
manifest from the fact that the air surcharged with am- 
monia from a dead animal, when passed through a tree 



160 LEAVES AS A FERTILIZER. 

with dense leaves, comes out sweet and fit for respiration. 
The carbonic acid and ammonia, though death to the ani- 
mal when inhaled into the lungs, is life to the plant when 
absorbed through the pores of the leaves. 

We are greatly mistaken if the part that the leaves 
take in restoring fertility to the soil has not been under- 
valued. We are apt to look upon them in the autumn as 
a nuisance, as they lie withered and strewn about our 
fields, but the sere and yellow leaf, when dead, has as im- 
portant an office to perform for the soil, as it had when 
alive' for the tree. 

A little dry leaf is an insignificant matter, and as we 
crush it in our hand it amounts to but little, but "many 
a little makes a miclde," as the Scotch proverb has it, and 
so found the Scotch nobleman, the late Duke of Athol, 
who planted the poor, hilly soil of his estate with the 
larch, and in thirty years found his land increased in value 
tenfold. Leaves are rich, not only in organic matter which 
they have derived from the air, but the roots of the trees, 
in grateful return for the elaboration of the sap performed 
by the leaves, furnish them a bountiful supply of in- 
organic matter, varying in kind and quantity with the 
different varieties of the trees. Thus the dry leaves of 
the oak furnish, by analysis, five per cent, of earthy mat- 
ter ; beech, seven ; willow, eight and a half ; and elm, 
eleven and three-fourths. 

No wonder that leaf mold from the forests is sought 
for by horticulturists and florists as just the soil in which 
their plants find abundant nourishment and grow luxuri- 
antly. Every farmer, who has a forest near his barn-yard, 
has a mine of wealth for his farm. No better material 
can be found for the basis of his compost heap. Being 
composed chiefly of carbonaceous matter, it is a great ab- 



rOEESTS — ?.IINES OF WEALTH. 161 

sorbent of the gases of the manure ; the fermentation of 
the latter hastens the decomposition of the whole, and the 
mass soon becomes fit food for plants, and the manure of 
the farm doubled in value. 

The objection may be made, that in taking the leaf 
mold from the forests to enrich the tillage ground, we are 
robbing Peter to pay Paul, but there is no jealousy be- 
tween the forest and the meadow. They belong to the 
same farm, and both are willing to labor for the enrich- 
ment of the owner. So rapid is the accumulation of vege- 
table matter in a forest, that the trees will scarcely miss 
what the farmer may take. 

Of little less value are the leaves which lie around our 
yards and lawns. If left to perish where they fall, they 
are a nuisance, covering and sometimes smothering the 
green turf. We should decidedly object to raking the 
leaves from under the trees of the orchard, for here they 
are performing an important part in the economy of na- 
ture. If we take the apples from the orchard, we should 
certainly let the leaves remain for the nourishment of the 
trees ; but the premises around the house are sacred to 
neatness and a velvety turf, and here the leaves should 
be carefully raked up, and used primarily as bedding for 
horses and cattle, and finally as manure. Whoever thus 
uses them will find a double advantage, and we are glad 
to notice that their value is more and more appreciated, 
both as bedding and manure. Whoever tries them once 
will not fail to try them again, and continuously. 

Very analogous to the leaves of our forest trees is sea- 
weed, which is still richer in inorganic matter. We have 
remarked that the ash left by leaves varies from 5 to 12 
per cent., but the ash of some of the sea-weeds amounts 
to 16 per cent., and is remarkable as containing more gyp- 



1G2 SEA-WEED COMPOSTED. 

sum and soda and less potash, than leaves. Sea-weeds 
also decay much more rapidly than clover and buckwheat. 
When used as a top-dressing, they wither, and in a short 
time almost entirely disappear. When placed in the com- 
post heap, which is their proper position, they speedily 
decompose and little trace of the plants can be perceived. 
It is of importance to notice that in using leaves and 
sea-weed, we make a positive addition to the arable land, 
of saline and organic matter, but in plowing in a green 
crop, we only restore the saline matter which the plants 
have already taken from the same ground. In using sea- 
weed, we bring back from the sea a portion of what the 
rivers are constantly carrying into it. A farm on the sea- 
shore has this great advantage over one in the interior, 
and those sea-board farmers are wise who avail themselves 
of all the sea- weed which the waves may wash upon the 
beach. Those of us, however, who live in the interior, 
are not wholly destitute of resources for vegetable manure, 
without resorting to plowing in green crops. The bless- 
ings of Providence are more evenly distributed than we 
sometimes imagine. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

MUCK BEDS AND THEIR VALUE. 

jN the muck beds, wliich are found in almost every 
I town, and, indeed, upon almost every farm in Massa- 

^ chusetts, there are reservoirs of manure which this 
m^ generation can not exhaust. A farmer in Berk- 
shire recently remarked to me, '' I have at least a million 
of loads of muck on my farm." These muck beds seem 
reserved by a kind Providence to furnish manure for the 
exhausted fields, as the coal beds have been reserved to 
furnish fuel for our houses and manufactories. 

I have already spoken of the formation of these muck 
beds, while treating of the origin of soils. 

Sacred history and science concur in affirming that there 
was a time, far back in the ages, when no vegetable mat- 
ter existed on the earth's surface. The first low order of 
plants must have been nourished from the air, without the 
aid of either animal or vegetable matter. Many seeds 
will now germinate and grow in soil, in which no trace 
of vegetable matter can be found, if they are only fur- 
nished with water and air. Beans sown in pounded flint- 
stone will double their weight of carbon. These are 
facts which we can not deny; still, the principle remains 
that that soil is best, other things being equal, in which 
carbonaceous matter abounds. 

When an impoverished soil is laid down to grass and 
lies undisturbed for a series of years, the vegetable mat- 



164 SOILS MOST BENEFITED BY MUCK. 

ter accumulates, and when it is broken up we find a black, 
fertile mould, ready to yield remunerative returns of any 
crop we please to put upon it. A seed germinates in a 
soil in which there is no vegetable matter, grows vigor- 
ously at first at the expense of the air, but soon shows 
the want of more nourishment at the root, and dies, 
stunted or immature. In its death it imparts to the soil 
the carbon which it had derived from the air, and its suc- 
cessor finds a better soil. If the land is warm and sandy, 
the decay is rapid, and little of the carbonaceous matter 
is retained in it. 

This is the kind of land which is most benefited by a 
supply of muck from the swamp, where the decay has 
been slow, owing to the exclusion of air and heat by the 
excessive moisture. On clay soils, also, muck operates 
mechanically to great advantage in rendering it more 
light and friable. It is less than half a century since our 
muck swamps were considered a nuisance, a fertile source 
of miasma, and fit only for the abode of frogs. Now 
these SAvamps are treasured as the most valuable part of 
the farm, as they furnish the basis for the enrichment of 
the whole. 

The value of muck differs in different locations ; de- 
pending partly on the stage of decay in which it is found, 
and partly on the substances from which it was originally 
formed. When applied directly from the swamp to' the 
arable land, it is cold and sour, decays slowly, and the 
benefit is not immediately apparent, so that many who 
have tried it in this manner have denounced it as worth- 
less. Others have placed it upon cold, wet land, already 
abounding in vegetable matter, and have thus carried 
coals to Newcastle. 

That it will enrich all dry soils, deficient in carbona- 



MUCK AND ASHES COMBINED. 165 

ceous matter, there can be no question. It may not show 
much vh'tue the first year, unless it has been previously 
composted with some nitrogenous or alkaline manure, by 
which its decomposition has been hastened, or its acidity 
neutralized; but like the beds on which coal-pits have 
been burned, its effect will be found permanent. We speak 
after an experience of twenty-five years in using it, and 
feel confident of what we affirm. If muck is lifted from 
its wet bed and exposed merely to the air, it will in a 
year or two become dry and sweet, and by its absorption 
of gases be rendered a valuable manure. 

But a better mode is to use it as an absorbent in the 
barn-yard and piggery, and as the basis of the compost 
heap. No definite rule can be laid down for the propor- 
tions in which to compost muck and barn-yard manure, 
as the latter varies so greatly in quality ; but it may be 
stated generally that one part of manure and two parts 
of muck, well shoveled and mixed, will make a mass 
worth twice as much as the manure alone. 

In speaking of the inorganic manures, Ave alluded to the 
great virtues of wood ashes, especially when combined 
with the organic matter which muck furnishes ; and we can 
not forbear, in this connection, repeating and enforcing 
this idea. On muck alone, few plants thrive and come 
to maturity. On a pure muck heap, corn will not grow a 
foot high, because earthy matter is deficient ; neither will 
corn grow upon an ash heap. All the salts requisite for 
its growth are present in such a heap in excess, but there 
is no organic matter, and consequently little ammonia. 
IMix the ashes and muck, and the deficiencies of the one 
are supplied by the other, and we know of no compost in 
which we are more certain of finding the varied food 
which most plants demand. It has also the great merit 



166 MUCK FOR COMPOSTING. 

of being speedily ready for use. A bushel of ashes well 
incorporated with five bushels of muck will, in a fortnight, 
be equal to most well-rotted barn-yard manure. 

As an absorbent, dry muck is very nearly equal to pul- 
verized charcoal, which it much resembles also in its 
chemical constitution. As a basis of compost, we know 
nothing superior to it, unless it is leaf mould from the 
forest, which is richer in potash and other soluble saline 
matters. We can not too strongly insist upon the impor- 
tance of composting all manure. Not only is the quan- 
tity greatly increased, but the quality is also. Much of 
the barn-yard manure that is carted directly from the 
yard and plowed under, is unevenly distributed, is full of 
seeds, and lies in large lumps, so that the crops do not 
receive the full benefit of it. By composting, we not only 
get a much finer manure, but we also get the mysterious 
catalytic influence, by which, in the contact of ferment- 
ing nitrogenous substances, the whole mass is fermented, 
much in the same manner as when, by a little leaven, the 
whole lump of meal is leavened. We know that there 
is labor in composting, and that labor costs money ; but 
we very much question whether any labor on the farm 
is more economically expended than upon the compost 
heap. 

Barn-yard manure is not the the only substance which 
can be composted with muck. Anything which under- 
goes rapid, spontaneous decomposition will infect the 
muck with the same tendency to decay, and will render 
it capable of ministering to the growth of cultivated plants. 
A dead horse of the ordinary size will convert four or 
five cords of muck into good manure, and not a particle 
of the ammonia need pass ofP to pollute the air and rob 
the soil. The refuse of our manufacturing establish- 



MATERIALS FOR THE COMPOST HEAP. 167 

ments affords much excellent material for the compost 
heap. Shoddy can not be put to a better use. Woolen 
rags, the sweepings of our woolen mills, the refuse of our 
tanneries and paper mills, when mingled with muck, will 
heat the whole mass, and produce rapid fermentation and 
decay. For many years past we have used the refuse sizing 
of a paper mill, consisting of tne skin of animals from 
which the glue had been extracted for filling the pores of 
writing paper. So great is the tendency of these moist 
pieces of skin to decay, that the air for half a mile to the 
leeward of a pile of them is filled with ammonia, but 
buried under muck the odor is all absorbed and retained 
iuv the benefit of the land. The muck also speedily par- 
lakes of the tendency to decomposition, and even the 
hair on the skins, one of the most indestructible of animal 
substances, can not resist the decomposing influence of 
the fermenting pile. 

Very similar to this influence of sizing upon muck is 
the effect of the refuse shoddy of a woolen mill. Wool 
is much slower of decay than skin, but, being mixed with 
oil, the oxygen of the air unites with the carbon of the 
oil, producing heat, sometimes resulting in spontaneous 
combustion. When this shoddy is mixed with muck, the 
heat of the pile often rises to 100 degrees, and rapid fer- 
mentation and decay are the consequence. Leather par- 
ings, being filled with tannin, which closes the pores and 
resists the action of air and water in ordinary circum- 
stances, show evident tendency to decomposition when 
placed in a warm, fermenting compost heap. 

Lime also acts most favorably on muck, hastening its 

. tendency to decomposition, and rectifying its acidity. It 

should, however, be used with caution in a compost with 

nitrogenous subtances, as the ammonia will escape unless 



168 HUSBxiXDRY OF FEUTILIZING IHATEKIAL. 

the pile is well covered with muck, which will absorb the 
gas as it is set free. With this caution, we are confident 
lime is an efficient adjunct in the compost, both benefiting 
and being benefited, for in no way can lime be applied to 
the soil so beneficially as in conjunction with vegetable 
matter. The greater the variety of elements introduced 
into the compost, the more efficient it will prove, for one 
of the greatest mistakes of farming has been the endeavor 
to feed crops with one variety of food. 

All special manuring must sooner or later prove a fail- 
ure. It may answer for a time, just so long as the one or 
two elements of plant-food which it supplies are the only 
elements in which the soil is deficient, but the increased 
draft which the crops make on the others will soon cause 
their exhaustion. Everything about the premises which 
can furnish plant-food, should be carefully husbanded. 
The slops of the house, the contents of the cess-pool, the 
soap-suds of the laundry, can in no way be disposed of so 
healthfully and so economically as by being composted 
with muck, or, where this is not convenient, with turf 
rich in vegetable matter. Everything that has once lived 
can be made to live again. The round from death to life 
and life to death is ceaseless. Man has no power over the 
issues of life. They come directly from the Creator, but 
we can determine what shape the new life shall take. 
The Aveeds that deface and rob the soil can be converted 
into potatoes, corn, or wheat, at the option of the farmer, 
or by his neglect can be left to go to seed and produce 
after their kind, some thirt}^, some sixty, and some an 
hundred fold. 

Chip manure is very analogous to muck in its com- 
position, and should be treated much in the same manner. 
We have seen in some wood-houses, — contiguous to the 



CHIP AND SPENT BAKK MANURES. 169 

kitchen, too, — the accumulations for years of chip dirt, 
slowly rotting, and giving to the air a musty smell. We 
should dislike to inhale into our lungs the seeds of mold 
which must emanate from such a decaying mass. The 
wood-house should annually be cleaned out, and the 
waste put upon the compost heap, both from regard 
to the health of the family and the enrichment of the 
farm. Mixed wdth the rapidly decaying matter of the 
compost, the rotten chips will soon become fertilizing 
mold, and if a little fresh slaked lime is sprinkled in the 
wood-house after the chips are removed, the air of the 
house will be sweeter, and possibly disease averted from 
the household. We have known instances, and not a 
few of them, where the chip manure is dumped into 
the street. This shows lamentable ignorance, both of 
what constitutes good road material and good farming. 
Indeed, by far too many of the roads of Massachusetts 
are built of sods and mucky soil, excellent for the 
growth of potatoes, but execrable for a road-bed. Vege- 
table matter makes a light, porous, loamy soil, but can 
not make a hard road. There are other sources of vege- 
table manure, such as saw-dust, tanner's bark, etc. 
Spent bark is very slow in decomposing, but placed in the 
compost with the lime, hair, and other refuse of the tan- 
nery, it will eventually become good manure. No or- 
ganic matter must be neglected by the intelligent farmer. 
If it has once lived, it will surely live again, and it is the 
farmer's province to direct the molding of the new life. 

But we must hasten to the consideration of animal 
manures, including the excrements, and the bodies of 
animals. The great resource of the farmer for manure is 
the barn-yard. Few farmers of the eastern or middle 
States fail to appreciate the importance of feeding out all 
8 



170 BURNING DELED GRASSES. 

the hay and coarse fodder, and returning its results for 
the benefit of the growing crops. On the western 
prairies, we have seen the stacks of straw burned to get 
them out of the way, and the piles of manure around 
the barns lying neglected. At the East we sometimes 
see bad management of the barn-yard manure, but never 
total neglect of it; and the time will come when our 
western friends will regret firing their straw stacks, and 
the equally wasteful practice of firing the grass on the 
prairies. The ashes that are left will do some good, but 
not a tithe of what might be received from the organic 
and inorganic matter co-operating. 




CHAPTER XXII. 

ANIMAL MANURES. 

|ARN-YARD manure, derived as it is from the crops 
of the farm, contains all the elements which these 
crops need, and never fails of answering a good 
purpose. Lime, plaster, and even bone-dust may 
sometimes prove inoperative, as the soil may already contain 
a sufficiency of the elements which these special manures 
furnish ; but we have yet to see any long cultivated land to 
which the application of barn-yard manure was not grate- 
ful. A manure is useful to vegetation by affording, in its 
decomposed state, direct food, or by adding to the soil 
additional power to absorb and retain atmospheric gases. 
Barn-yard manure acts in both these ways. It contains 
all the inorganic food that plants need, and at the same 
time its bulky carbonaceous matter retains the ammonia 
derived from the decaying tissues of the animal, and also 
renders the soil porous, ready to absorb still further sup- 
plies of the gases of the air. 

The question has been asked, why does the hay, which 
seems so indestructible in the mow, undergo such rapid 
putrefactive fermentation after it has passed through the 
animal, and why, if the animal extracts from the hay a 
good share of its nutriment, would it not be a more rapid 
and economical mode of enriching the f^rni to plow in 



172 BEST STOCK FOIi MANURES. 

the forage witliout feeding it to the animal, so that all its 
virtues may be returned to the soil ? 

The answer obviously is, that the hay, as it passes 
through the animal, is composted, as it Avere, that is, it is 
moistened with the saliva, warmed by the animal heat, 
and receives a portion of the waste of the body which is 
continually passing off, so that if the animal is not grow- 
ing or furnishing milk, nearly as much fertilizing matter 
is voided as is consumed. Some of the nutritive ele- 
ments of the food do indeed pass off through the lungs 
and skin, but this waste is more than compensated by the 
rapid decomposition of the forage in the animal, by 
which it is immediately rendered available again as plant- 
food ; whereas if it was plowed in, the decay would be 
much slower. 

It may be difficult to figure the exact gains and losses 
which the food undergoes in passing through the animal, 
but that it gains as well as loses there can be no doubt ; 
and there is as little doubt that the farm on which cattle 
are kept to consume all the forage is most likely to be a 
rich one, and that cattle husbandry, judiciously managed, 
is the most profitable branch of farming, — profitable not 
only because the farmer is enriched, but because the land 
is most likely to be kept in good heart. If we see a barn 
well stocked with cattle, and the barn cellar and yard 
well filled with manure, we expect to see good crops 
in the field as surely as we expect when we sov/ wheat 
to harvest wheat. 

Some farmers seem to suppose that it makes no differ- 
ence to what stock their forage is fed, and that their 
farms can be sustained as well by one kind of stock as 
another. This is not so. The manure of young, groov- 
ing stock is by no means as valuable as that from mature 



COMPARATIVE QUALITY OF BARN-YARD MANURES. 173 

animals, as more of the food goes to building up the body 
of the animal. Just so with cows giving milk ; much of 
the nutriment flows to the milk, and consequently flows 
off the farm. This may be no loss to the farmer, but the 
farm must be minus all the salts which the milk contains. 
Probably no stock returns so much to the farm as mature 
cattle that are being fattened, and none other ever 
should be. 

The quality of the manure depends much on the quality 
of the food the animal consumes. Grain-fed animals 
give a much richer manure than grass-fed, and those that 
ruminate digest their food more thoroughly and extract 
more nourishment from it than those furnished with only 
one stomach. A pig may live on the excrement of a 
horse, but would starve on the excrement of a cow. The 
food of the bipeds is much richer than that of the quad- 
rupeds, and their manure is correspondingly more valua- 
ble. Our barn-door fowls are great consumers of grain 
and meat, and the hennery can be made a manufactory 
of domestic guano little inferior to that imported from 
Peru. Both the domestic and imported guano are the 
droppings of birds, but as the Peruvian guano comes from 
birds that feed mainly on fish, it is richer in ammonia than 
that from our domestic fowls. Blessings are valued 
sometimes in proportion to the distance from whence they 
are brought. While we pay three or four cents a pound 
for the guano imported from the Pacific, we overlook or 
greatly undervalue that manufactured in the hennery. 
If this were all carefully saved and composted, as it 
should be, the quantity of good manure furnished by 
a flock of twenty hens would surprise the inexjperienced 
owner. 

The fertilizing power of domestic guano is partly due 



174 GBEAT VALUE OF THE HENNERY. 

to the fact that the liquid and solid excrements are 
Yoided together. 

The hennery should be kept well littered with muck 
or good loam, with a sprinkling of plaster, or leached 
ashes occasionally, and the manure furnished will be 
quadrupled in amount and value. Whoever shovels it 
over, even when thus diluted, will find the hartshorn es- 
caping in such abundance as to be convinced that the 
absorbents are not in excess. The solid part of the 
droppings of birds, when recent, consists of a varia- 
ble percentage of urate of ammonia, phosphate of lime, 
and other saline compounds. The liquid part, like 
other liquid manures, contains much urea, with some 
phosphates, sulphates and chlorides. If allowed to re- 
main exposed to the air for much length of time, the 
salts of ammonia gradually volatilize, and the efficacy of 
the manure is greatl}^ diminished. We have found the 
dry droppings of both pigeons and hens filled with 
worms, which were reveling on what should have consti- 
tuted the food of plants. Hence the necessity of keep- 
ing the hennery well littered with some absorbent, or of 
frequently removing its contents to the compost heap. 

We do not subscribe to the doctrine that the value of 
manure can be tested by the percentage of ammonia it 
contains, for, thus tested, ashes and all mineral manures 
would be ranked at zero ; still there can be no doubt that 
ammonia is one of the most valuable fertilizers, and its 
careful preservation can not be too urgently insisted upon. 
In the excrement of fowls there is little carbonaceous 
matter to retain the ammonia, and hence the greater ne- 
cessity of speedily composting it. It is also a too highly 
concentrated manure to be applied directly to the plant, 
but if properly composted, it gives corn and other grains 



NIGHT-SOIL THE MOST VALUABLE. 175 

a wonderful impulse. We have greatly undervalued in 
this country our domestic guano, and the price per bushel 
for the manure of the hennery has been about the same 
as the Belgians and Spaniards pay for it per pound. 

Of all animals, man is the most richly fed, and night- 
soil is the most valuable of all the solid animal manures. 
Partly from ignorance of its value and partly from preju- 
dice, it has never received that attention in this country 
which its merits deserve. By most families it is consid- 
ered a nuisance, to be abated as best it may, often by a 
bonus to any one who will remove it ; but it is one of 
those fragments that should be gathered, if we desire 
that nothing be lost. We carefully save the excrements 
of our quadrupeds, as we know that what has fed our 
stock must be returned to the land to feed the growing 
crop, or farm and farmer will alike be impoverished ; but 
the richer deposit of the vault is neglected, and the aggre- 
gate waste is immense. 

No manure we have ever tried is at once so cheap and 
rich as night-soil. Its value depends somewhat upon the 
quality of food consumed by the family. The greater 
the amount of animal food used, the richer is the night- 
soil. In the vault is found fecal matter derived from 
beef, pork, fish, butter, flour and eggs, and it must nec- 
essarily contain the elements requisite to reproduce the 
plants from which this rich food has been directly or in- 
directly derived. 

Thousands and tens of thousands of barrels of flour 
are yearly imported into Massachusetts, and her soil 
should be enriched from the fecal matter derived from 
the consumption of so much grain. The rich pastures of 
Kentucky, and the prairies of Texas and Illinois, are con- 
stantly furnishing us droves of fat cattle, and the con- 



176 NIGHT-SOIL NEEDS COMPOSTING. 

sumption of this vast amount of foreign beef should make 
our fields as green as those of the Emerald Isle ; and they 
would do so, if night-soil were duly valued, and the 
proper means taken for its preservation and restoration 
to the land. 

Johnston says dry night-soil is equal to thirty times its 
bulk of horse manure. 

We have had much experience with it for many years, 
and from no manure have we derived so satisfactory results. 
Living near a populous village, we have had an opportunity 
to obtain an abundance, and have not been slow to im- 
prove the privilege. Like the manure of the hennery, it 
is rich in ammonia, and there is great waste of this gas, 
unless constantly covered with some absorbent. 

True economy demands that night-soil should be com- 
posted before being applied to the land. Five parts of 
muck, loam or leaf mould to one of night-soil, will make 
a compost which will cover six times the space and do 
three times the good of the unadulterated article. We do 
not like to recommend the adulteration of manures, lest 
the term be misunderstood or perverted, but all the con- 
centrated ammoniacal manures will act more efficiently 
and permanently if used in connection with some ab- 
sorbent. 

A dead horse contains ammonia enough to enrich half 
an acre of land, but if left to decompose uncovered, the 
ammonia passes off to a neighboring farm, possibly to a 
neighboring town or State, and only a square rod or two, 
where the horse lies, receives the benefit ; and this little 
spot is so enriched that, like a plethoric rich man, it does 
not know what to do with its superabundant riches, and 
so it does nothing. Just so with night-soil ; it amounts 
to but little when used uncomposted, and both for health 



ORDINARY VAULTS PREJUDICIAL TO HEALTH. 17T 

and fertility, the composting should be attended to daily. 
While the vault may be made a prolific source of fer- 
tility by proper attention, it is also, when neglected, the 
source of disease and death. It is only one of the many 
instances in which what is life to the j)lant is death to 
the animal. Let no one neglect the vault for the want 
of a proper composting material. Any loam in which 
organic matter abounds will answer a good purpose. 

The composting material which Rev. Henry Moule of 
Fordington, England, the inventor of the earth closets, 
recommends, is simply sifted dry earth. Col. Waring of 
NewjDort, R. I., to whom we are indebted for bringing 
these earth closets to the attention of the American 
public, says that just as he commenced writing his pam- 
phlet on this subject : — " Every person sleeping on the 
second floor of the house was attacked with symptoms 
of fever. My house stands on one of the healthiest sites 
of this healthiest of" all towns, and there is nothing in 
the soil or in the neighborhood to which any malarious 
influence can be attributed ; but standing w^ithin ten feet 
of the house, on the side from which the wind generally 
blows, there was a common deep vault privy, which had 
also been a receptacle for the slops of the house. I im- 
mediately caused the vault to be cleaned out and filled 
up with earth, and its contents to be composted with 
earth, the whole vicinity being covered with air-slaked 
lime. Attending this disinfection there was a rapid con- 
valescence of the whole household, equal to the effect of 
a removal to the mountains. I have no question that 
the putrefying contents of this vault were the direct 
cause of the disease, and that the removal of the cause 
led to speedy recovery." 

We make this extract from Col. Waring's pamphlet to 
8* 



178 im:mense waste of treasure. 

enforce a greater attention to the family vault from a re- 
gard to health, if no reference is had to the fertility of the 
soil. We have known similar instances in our own experi- 
ence, and that terrible scourge of New England, typhoid 
fever, often visits families, and the cause is looked for in 
some distant marsh, or complainingly attributed to a mys- 
terious Providence, when the cause really existed in the 
house, and the fault lay in the ignorance or inattention 
of the major-domo. Either the sanitary or the agricul- 
tural reason is sufficient to induce greater attention to 
nisfht-soil. The industrial interests of the State are suf- 
fering from the neglect of the most important elements 
of fertilit}^ Our present practice of hurrying to the sea, 
or burying in under-ground vaults, or in some other way 
putting out of sight and out of reach our night-soil, is 
diminishing the wealth of the country by millions. The 
French and Belgians are the only European nations that 
treat this fruitful source of fertility with anything like 
economy. Rev. Henry Colman, in his Continental Agricul- 
ture, published twenty years since, gave a minute account 
of the inoffensive way in which the night-soil of Paris 
was disposed of, returned to the soil, and reconverted 
into wheat and luscious fruits ; but still the common sew- 
ers of most cities are permitted to return to the sea the 
residuary products of millions of acres of land. It is 
singular to notice the slow progress of improvement in 
husbanding the resources of fertility, and the obstinacy 
with which men cling to old customs, however ruinous to 
the individual and the nation. Ever since the Cloaca 
Maxima was built, by which the entire sewerage of 
Rome was washed into the Tiber, and which Liebig asserts 
sapped the foundations of prosperity in the Roman em- 
pire, the fashion has been to rush all human excrement 



UNFOUNDED PREJUDICES. 179 

in cities and large towns into the sea. It is calculated 
that the Thames annually carries off from the city of 
London refuse sufficient to fertilize a million of acres of 
land ; 130,000 tons of rich matter daily flow through the 
sewers. If Mr. Moule's invention of earth closets will 
prevent this waste, he will do England and America a 
service that will lay the foundations, so far as physical cul- 
ture is concerned, of a Paradise restored. The main 
benefits of Mr. Moule's method may be secured in the 
country by every farmer's keeping a barrel of charcoal, or 
dry muck, or even a pile of dry loam near his vault, and 
daily throwing in a sufficiency to absorb all the volatile 
matter. 

A prejudice exists in the minds of some against the 
use of night-soil, and a fear prevails that its presence 
may taint the growing crop. Nature's laboratory is too 
skillfully managed to give any occasion for such an ap- 
prehension. Look at any compost heap, made up of the 
most offensive substances which can be congregated 
together, and presenting a mass of objects disgusting to 
the touch, sight and smell. Yet this is the food of the 
vegetable world. The more disgusting it is to the ani- 
mal, the more it is relished by the vegetable. Placed in 
the soil, the living plant separates and sublimates the 
particles with a skill which distances all science, and re- 
turns them to us, glowing with life, beauty and fragrance. 

This resurrection of these vile particles, so purified, is 
analogous to the resurrection of which Paul speaks : " It 
is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body ; it is 
sown in weakness, it is raised in power." We must re- 
member that our bodies, so fearfully and wonderfully 
made, — the wine which maketh the heart of man glad, — 
the flowers of the most exquisite coloring, beauty, and 



180 TEACHINGS OF THE COMPOST HEAP. 

perfume, the fruits most luscious to the taste, all depend 
for their sustenance upon the ,fields made fertile by the 
vile compounds of the compost heap. 

The over-refined and sensitive boarding-school girl, 
polished down till there is little strength left, may scorn 
the idea that her immaculate body is composed of the 
same elements that one day were in the compost, the 
next day in the grass, and the following day in the ox 
which grazed in the field, but the farmer must think of 
and understand these things, and standing in his barn- 
yard must know and rejoice to say: " Here is the source 
of my wealth ; that which has fed my cattle shall now 
feed my crops ; that which has given fatness to my flocks 
shall now give fatness to my fields." 

We have never felt so rich, nor more impressed with the 
goodness and wisdom of Providence, than when shoveling 
over the compost heap. A mysterious power is ever op- 
erating in every department of nature, but a farmer, 
handling his manure, feels like a merchant taking an ac- 
count of his stock in trade and finding his capital in- 
creasing, and must acknowledge that there is a power 
higher than man's, that can create life and beauty from 
the corrupt mass before him. Manure is emphatically 
the farmer's raw material, and the soil is the manufactory 
where this raw material is converted into salable goods, 
but there is a skill displayed in the manufacture which 
no mechanic can imitate. If an undevout astronomer is 
mad, an atheistic farmer must be as irrational as the ox 
he drives. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

ANIMAL SUBSTANCES DECOMPOSED. 

(^^^OT only must all the vegetable matter of the farm 
gtHII and the excrement of the ammals be carefully 
(SM| husbanded, if we would see the farm enriched, but 
^■^^ the refuse animal matter itself must be treasured 
and restored to the soil from which it has drawn its life. 
It is in the animal that we find enriching material in its 
most concentrated form. Some may suppose the amount 
is so small as not to be deserving of the farmer's atten- 
tion. Let such consider the infinite number and variety 
of animals on the face of the earth. The air, the earth 
and the water teem with animal life. The soil feeds the 
plant, the plant feeds the animal, and the animal, when 
dead, should return to mother earth the elements origi- 
nally derived from her. This he does do, but not always 
in the place and manner to serve man's highest interest. 
We have seen the dead lamb hung on the limbs of a tree 
to scatter its enriching material wherever the winds 
pleased to blow, and the dead horse buried in some re- 
mote corner merely to suppress the effluvia, and with 
no consideration of the enriching material thus thrown 
away. 

The flesh of animals is not only a rich manure in itself, 
but the rapidity with which it undergoes decay enables it 



182 WOOL, HORN, HAIP., BLOOD, ETC. 

speedily to bring other organic substances with which it 
may be mixed, into active fermentation. The composition 
of dried flesh is in 100 parts, carbon 52, hydrogen 8, nitro- 
gen 15, oxygen 21, ash 4. The flesh of animals consists 
of a lean part, called by chemists fibrin, and a fatty part, 
intermixed with the lean in a greater or less proportion, 
according to the condition of the animal. Of these it is 
the lean part which is nitrogenous, and acts most energet- 
ically in the promotion of vegetation. 

Blood is very analogous to beef in its composition, 
but contains more water, and makes rich compost, decom- 
posing still more readily than flesh. In some parts of 
Europe it is dried and ground, and in the state of dry 
powder is applied with great advantage to the crops. 
Wool, hair and horns differ from flesh and blood in con- 
taining but little water, and consequently decay much 
more slowly. In chemical composition, they differ but 
slightly from each other, and from flesh and blood, and 
are rich in nitrogen and other elements of plant-food. 
Woolen rags are so highly valued by the hop-growers of 
England that they pay from f 20 to $40 a- ton for them to 
bury around the roots of the vines, to which they con- 
tinue to furnish nutriment for a long time. 

Horn, in the form of horn shavings, parings and turn- 
ings, is justly considered a powerful manure. Horn, how- 
ever, decomposes slowly when applied directly to the soil. 
The decomposition may be hastened by placing the horns 
in contact with fermenting manure in the compost heap. 
We have used the horn piths with great benefit. These 
decompose more readily than the horns themselves, and 
may be bought at the tanners at a low rate. One of the 
best applications of horns, hair and bones, is to bury 
them under vines and fruit trees, placing sufficient dirt 



MANURE AND ANIMAL SUBSTANCES COMPARED. 183 

over them to furnish a mellow bed for the roots to rest 
upon. 

Farmers on some parts of the sea-coast have a great 
resource for manure in fish, which are often met with 
in such abundance that they can be economically used 
for fertilizing the land. They are either spread upon 
the land and plowed in, or what is far better, com- 
posted. Both the flesh and bones of fish are nearly 
identical in chemical composition with the flesh and bones 
of land animals, though fish furnish a little less nitrogen. 
If the quantity of nitrogen is the standard of value in 
nitrogenous manures, as some affirm, it is easy to assign 
to each variety its graded position, as good barn-yard ma- 
nure contains 1-2 per cent nitrogen, flesh 3 1-2, fish 2 1-2, 
fresh blood 3, dried blood 12, skin 8, wool, hair and horns 
16. On this standard we have the following value of 
barn-yard manure as compared with these animal sub- 
stances : one hundred pounds of average animal excre- 
ment are equal to fourteen pounds flesh, twenty pounds 
fish, sixteen pounds fresh blood, twelve pounds skin, and 
six pounds wool, hair and horn. Whoever, therefore, 
buries and wastes a dead horse weighing 1,000 pounds, 
loses what is equivalent to four tons of barn-yard ma- 
nure, and what by composting with muck, may be made 
equivalent to eight tons. This is not mere theory. We 
have composted hundreds of dead horses, using muck as 
the basis, and the compost applied to grass causes a luxu- 
riant thick growth, which, when mowed with a scythe, 
rolls over like a fleece of wool. 

We are more indebted to the decomposition of organ- 
ized animal matter for the fertility of our soils than is 
generally supposed. Not every vegetable that grows 
passes into the higher animal organization, but the great 



184 WONDERFUL MECHANISM OF NATURE. 

end of vegetable life apparently is, to purify the air and 
fit it for respiration, and to support in every way the ani- 
mal economy. Providence furnishes the vegetable food 
in no stinted suppl}^ Far more grows each year than 
animals consume. Nature, or rather the God of nature, 
never suffers creatures to want for food, if they will only 
put forth the effort necessary to help themselves. There 
is, however, no waste. What the infinite variety of ani- 
mated existence does not consume is reproduced, and 
wdiat passes into the animal economy is still more speed- 
ily restored to the vegetable state. Much goes into the 
air in the form of ammonia and carbonic acid, but every 
shower, every snow-storm, and every deposition of dew 
brings down the ammonia, and every leaf is drinking in 
the carbonic acid. 

The skill of the mechanic in passing water through his 
engine in the form of steam, giving great motive power, 
and then condensing the steam and returning it to the 
boiler to go over the same journey, is small in comparison 
with the wisdom of the Creator, who is also the Great 
Agriculturist. The microscope reveals the fact that myr- 
iads of animalcules, too minute to be seen by the naked 
eye, are constantly converting vegetable matter into ani- 
mal life, and we see myriads of ephemeral insects of a 
summer's evening floating in the air, born in the morning 
and dying in the night. These all have their mission to 
perform, and it is not merely to convert putrescent mat- 
ter into life, which w^ould otherwise fill the air with poi- 
son, but in their death they give life to the vegetables 
from which their own life was drawn. The earth is the 
great absorbent of all this fertilizing matter, and uses it 
for clothing herself with a verdant and beautiful vest- 
ment. Let us be co-workers with the Infinite One, and 



APPLICATION OF MANURES. 185 

direct this decaying animal matter into the channels where 
it may best subserve its legitimate purpose. 

This leads us to say that the a23plication of manure is 
a not much less important subject of study for the farmer, 
tlian its manufacture. It is a mistake to suppose that all 
manure is alike, and to be applied indiscriminately to all 
lands, all crops, at all times, and in all stages of ferment- 
ation. As different animals, and the same animals in va- 
rious stages of growth, require different kinds of food, 
just so it is with plants. What is food for one is rejected 
by another. No two species of plants have precisely the 
same chemical composition. Both the organic and inor- 
ganic constituents differ. The ashes of different woods 
vary so greatly that the soap boiler, whose sole object is 
to secure the potash, can afford to pay ten times as much 
for the ashes made from beech as for those made from 
some of the fir trees. 

The analysis of soils and plants has not yet done for 
agricultural chemistry all that was hoped. Perhaps too 
much was expected. We can not analyze a soil and tell 
precisely what ingredients are wanting, and precisely the 
amount, to make it productive of this or that crop. The 
mysteries of nature's laboratory are too intricate to be 
perfectly developed in one year, or one century. Ap- 
proximations only have thus far been attained, and some 
errors have doubtless been made. Practical agricultur- 
ists, however, owe much to the labors of such men as 
Liebig in Germany, Johnston in England, and Johnson in 
America. Enough has been done to encourage still fur- 
ther investigations on the part of the chemists, and closer 
observation on the part of farmers. We know that po- 
tatoes require an extra allowance of potash, that turnips 
feed largely on the phosphates, clover on the sulphates, 



186 ADAPTATION OF MANUEES TO THE CROP. 

and that cabbages, grasses and grains demand a liberal al- 
lowance of nitrogenous manures. 

Not only must the adaptation of the manure to the 
crop be studied, but its mechanical effect on the soil must 
also be considered. In a close, retentive clay, one great 
object in manuring is to make the soil more open and fri- 
able ; and for this purpose green manure, abounding with 
organic matter, is plowed in. But when the soil is 
already light and open, coarse manure may make it more 
so, and may materially injure the mechanical condition, 
and be attended with great loss of the most valuable 
constituents of the manure. In such a case it is better 
that the manure be fermented in the compost heap, in 
connection with more vegetable matter. 

Clay is so good an absorbent, that in a clay loam there 
is little loss from evaporation ; but in a sandy loam manure 
wastes rapidly, and should be applied only in connection 
with some absorbent, and as short a time as possible be- 
fore the sowing of the crop. 

When fresh manure is plowed in upon a clay soil, a lit- 
tle well rotted compost should be scattered over the sur- 
face to give the crop a good start. Neither plants nor 
animals should be stunted at any season of their growth. 
On a clay loam of medium fertility the young shoots of 
corn would find poor living, if the manure is all buried 
six or eight inches below the surface. With a light top- 
dressing, harrowed in after the land is plowed, the plants 
have a good start, and when the roots reach the long ma- 
nure they are invigorated in the latter part of the summer, 
for a good home stretch, as the jockeys call it. We formerly 
plowed in most of our manure in a green state, but on re- 
plowing the land (a clay loam), the next fall or spring, we 
would often find the manure only slightly decomposed. It 



SURFACE MANURING. 187 

had been canned up too closely for the air to act upon it, 
and our practice of late years has been to compost all our 
manure and use it near the surface. This is the mode 
which the Great Proprietor of the earth adopts, who scat- 
ters the leaves and all other enriching matter near the 
surface. Mineral manures, all agree, should never be ap- 
plied anywhere else. In their case there is no danger 
from evaporation, and their tendency is constantly to 
sink into the soil. If nitrogenous manures are well com- 
posted, little fear need be apprehended of evaportion, and 
even fresh manure, if exposed on the surface, loses less 
than is commonly supposed, for in a dry day the surface 
is coated with a filament which prevents the escape of the 
gases, and in a wet time the water absorbs them and 
washes them into the soil. 

We will add only one more suggestion respecting the 
application of manures, and this is the law, " that like pro- 
duces like." It has been found that no manure is so good 
for grape-vines as the trimmings of the vines themselves, 
and for the good reason that these trimmings contain just 
the elements that the growing vines need. It is in this 
way that our native forests are enriched. The leaves and 
lower branches are constantly falling off, (a spontaneous 
pruning of nature's,) and by this means the trees receive 
such nourishment as is best adapted to their growth. The 
principle is doubtless one of universal application. The 
manure made from any crop can be returned to that crop 
with great certainty of accomplishing good. Thus, if our 
pork is corn-fed, the manure fromour hog-pens should be 
returned to the corn-field. As hay is the chief food for 
cows, so the cow-stable manure is an excellent top-dress- 
ing for the meadows. A little aftermath left on the 
mowing lots and pastures will do them no damage. It 



188 " LIKE PEODUCES LIKE. 



5> 



will not only elaborate the juices of the grass for the 
benefit of the roots, and protect them from the severity 
of winter, but in its decay will be incorporated with 
the crop of the succeeding season. The subject of 
manures is an extensive one, and we are conscious of not 
having done it justice. We desire in closing to reiterate the 
principle we have endeavored to unfold : The farmer must 
add to the soil sufficient supplies of everything he carries 
off in his crops. Special manures may answer for one 
crop and one season. Phosphate of lime may raise good 
corn or turnips, but the succeeding crops will demand a 
manure containing a greater variety of food. Barn-yard 
manure contains this variety, and this must be the main 
resource of the farmer. When the fever for guano was at 
its hight, a few years since, a friend remarked to us, 
" I would not cart barn-yard manure a mile, if it were 
given to me, so long as I can get guano." We have lived 
to see him discard guano, and return to the barn-yard, 
which must ever be the main-stay of the farm and farmer. 



LEOTUEE SEYENTH. 




CHAPTER XXIV, 

THE HAY CROP. 

/RASS is king among the crops of the earth. More 
I land is devoted to its cultivation, and more money 
realized from it than from any other product, cotton 
not excepted. Our southern brethren a few years 
since crowned cotton as king, but events showed him to be 
a usurper of a throne which rightfully belongs to grass. 
Mankind for ages lived without cotton, but never existed 
without grass. Paradise would not have been paradise, 
had not its fields been covered with a carpet of green 
grass ; certainly, the animals that came to Adam for their 
names, would have found miserable forage, and man a 
short career, had not the verdant herbage of the pastures 
furnished them sustenance. 

The statistics of the nations of the earth, prove that 
grass is the most essential, and most remunerative of all 
crops. This is true, taking the world at large, and is partic- 
ularly true in New England, as by the character of our cli- 
mate we are compelled to stall-feed our cattle nearly half 
the year. By the official returns of the products of Massa- 
chusetts, for 1865, we learn that the value of the hay 
crop for that year was $13,195,274, while corn, including 



190 VALUE OF THE HAY CROP. 

broom corn, was less than three millions, potatoes about 
two and a half millions, oats a little over half a million, 
and rye about a third of a million. If we add to the hay 
the value of the grass consumed in the pastures, it will 
be found that the grass grown in Massachusetts exceeds 
in value all the other agricultural products combined. 

We thus see that grass is one of the most important sub- 
jects that can occupy the attention of farmers. The annual 
value of the grass crop in our whole country, including 
pasturage and hay, can not be less than $500,000,000. 
According to our last state census, we have in Massachu- 
setts 90,282 horses, about 50,000 oxen and steers, and 
174,386 cows and heifers, and all these animals, which 
minister to our necessities and comforts, are mainly sus- 
tained by the grasses. So thoroughly convinced are our 
most sagacious farmers, of the importance of this crop, 
that with most, it occupies the chief position in the rota- 
tion, and indeed all other crops are cultivated with refer- 
ence to an increase of this leading staple. 

Grass is an indigenous product of our soil. Other 
useful crops must be sown, but grass springs up sponta- 
neously. As soon as the forests are cleared and the 
sunlight is let in upon the ground, grass m^kes its appear- 
ance, clothing nature with a verdure most pleasing to the 
eye, and at the same time furnishing the most nutritious 
forage for the cattle that roam over our thousand hills. 
A struggle does indeed immediately commence between 
the useful grasses, and the worthless thorns and brambles, 
much like the struggle between good and evil in the 
moral world ; but it is encouraging to know that the good, 
useful and beautiful are sure to triumph, when cultiva- 
tion lends its helping hand. 

As a father by proper vigilance and culture can train 



GRASS VERSUS "WEEDS. 191 

up his family in the ways of righteousness, so the farmer, 
by constant cultivation, can be sure that the grasses will 
root out all noxious weeds. Every careful observer must 
have noticed that where cattle leave their droppings in 
the fields, thorns do not spring up, but in lieu thereof, a 
rich mat of grass. 

As it is easy and natural for man to speak the truth, so 
it is natural for the fields to produce grass. The thistles 
and weeds come only by neglect. If any one wishes to 
know how to eradicate daisies and johnswort from his 
meadows, Ave say to him emphatically, top-dress them 
richly with good compost, and if the grasses do not get 
the start and choke out the vile interlopers, then our 
experience and observation has not been extensive enough 
to form a general principle. We have seen fields, and must 
confess to having owned them, so white with daisies, that 
a passenger on the cars supposed they were luxuriant 
with an early crop of buckwheat; and these same mead- 
ows, by the simple process of top-dressing, have exchanged 
their pale-faced look for one of deepest green. Whether 
nature spontaneously produces good or evil, grass or weeds, 
we may leave for the metaphysicians and theorists to 
speculate upon, but this much we know practically, that 
if land is well cultivated, where weeds abounded grass 
does much more abound. 

It is not a little singular to notice in this connection, 
that the sowing of grass seed is a very modern practice, 
and America has the honor of discovering that the natural 
grasses may be improved, and the crop of hay greatly 
increased, by carefully collecting and sowing the seeds. 
When our fathers left England in 1620, red clover was 
Unknown there, as a distinct crop, and it was more than 
a century after this, that the English began sowing the 



192 SOWING OF GRASS SEED. 

chaff and seed collected from their barn floors and around 
thek hay-stacks. 

In 1769 the London society for the encouragement of 
arts offered premiums for the collection of seeds of the 
wild grasses, and experiments in the culture and compar- 
ative value of the natural herbage of the island. The 
mildness of the English climate allowed the farmers of 
that country to rely upon the native products of the soil for 
the sustenance of their stock, but the rigors of our New 
England winters soon compelled our fathers to resort to 
more artificial resources for forage. Indeed, we read in 
the early history of Plymouth and Massachusetts colonies, 
of whole herds of cattle dying from starvation and ex- 
posure, ere our fathers had learned the necessity of barns 
and the value of good hay. 

The Puritans were very pure and noble, but if we should 
treat our cattle as stock was treated in the first century 
of our colonial history, Mr. Bergh would expose us in the 
New York Tribune^ and bring us to justice for cruelty to 
animals. We trust that the Puritans did it in ignorance. 
Clover was introduced into England about 1633, but the 
cultivation of timothy and orchard grass the English 
learned from us, more than a century afterward, and it was 
not till the Duke of Bedford made his experiments, early in 
the present century, that the grass crop assumed the im- 
portance it now commands; and we do not think it has 
yet generally attained the relative position and atten- 
tion it deserves among the products of the earth. It 
is like the air Ave breathe, so common and so cheap, that 
we undervalue it. We avoid treading upon the blades of 
corn, but walk upon the velvety turf without compunction, 
but the grass " crushed to the earth rises again," and is 
found, like truth, to prevail over all its foes. 



CHEMICAL ANALYSIS OF GRASS. 193 

Chemical analysis and careful experiment agree in 
assigning a higher nutritive value to well-made hay, in 
comparison with grain and roots, than is commonly sup- 
posed. The general impression is that grass-fed beef must 
necessarily be poor, and that cattle fed on hay alone 
during the winter improve but little in size and deteriorate 
in flesh. That grass-fed beef is often poor, and that our 
herds make little growth during the winter and are gen- 
erally "spring-poor" in April, we can not deny. But the 
lean, blue beef must not be charged to the account of the 
grass, nor the skin-and-bone appearance of the stock 
to the account of the hay. Let the cattle graze in pas- 
tures luxuriant with white clover, redtop, June and 
orchard grass, and the beef will be fit to set before an 
English king or a New York alderman. 

The trouble with grass-fed beef is that the pastures are 
either starved or overstocked, and if the lean kine that 
go bellowing about in the spring, or stand shivering and 
shriveled under the lee of some fence, could speak Eng- 
lish, they would say with Oliver Twist, " We want some 
more." 

We have seen cattle luxuriating in rich pastures, whose 
flanks and sirloins fairly rolled with fat ; and we have no 
doubt that beef thus made is more healthy than where 
the animal is confined in a dark stall, condemned to 
breathe impure air, fed with oil-cake, and deprived of 
all exercise. We have also seen herds of cattle wintered 
on hay, that continued growing during the winter, and 
looked as sleek and thrifty in the spring as when housed 
in the fall. 

There is no necessity, therefore, for poor grass-fed 
beef, nor poor hay-fed stock. If any reliance can be 
placed on Boussingault's table of nutritive equivalents, 
9 



194 NUTKITIVE VALUE OF GRASS. 

100 pounds of good English liay are equal in feeding 
qualities to Qo pounds of barley, 60 pounds of oats, 58 
pounds of rye, 55 pounds of wheat, 70 pounds of corn, 
382 pounds of carrots, 319 pounds of potatoes and 676 
pounds of Swedish turnips. Other chemists make these 
equivalents a little different, but all make the relative 
value of hay higher than most Yankees would guess or 
most farmers would calculate, without making accurate 
experiments. 

We must, however, remember that the hay with which 
these grasses and roots are compared is good English hay, 
not the rough scurf of our meadows composed of daisies, 
thistles, and other weeds, with a few spires of grass 
thrown in for seasoning, and the whole allowed to stand 
on the sod till most of the nutriment has gone to the 
formation of seed, that has been scattered by the birds 
and insects to the four corners of the earth. It is be- 
cause much of the hay which we feed to our stock is of 
so poor a quality, that we estimate its nutritive value at 
so low a rate. Practical farmers, who have carefully ex- 
perimented in feeding good hay, grain, and roots, do not 
differ materially in their conclusions from the analyses of 
scientific chemists. 

Thaer, from his experiments, estimates 100 pounds of 
hay as equivalent to 76 pounds of barley, 86 pounds of 
oats, 71 pounds of rye, 300 pounds of carrots, and 460 
pounds of mangel-wurzels. The grains, it will be noticed, 
rank lower in the practical experiment than in the chemi- 
cal analysis. From both experiment and analysis, we con- 
clude that a hundred pounds of hay are equivalent in nu- 
trition to one bushel of corn or barley, two bushels of 
oats, four bushels of potatoes and five bushels of carrots. 
As there can be no question but that we can raise a hun- 



HOW TO INCREASE THE HAY CROP. 195 

dred pounds of liay at less expense than a bushel of corn, 
or five bushels of carrots, it follows that hay should be 
the leading crop, where crops are raised to be fed out to 
stock. 

We know that in comparing substances so unlike as 
hay and roots there is some uncertainty, especially in the 
analytical comparison. It is too much like comparing 
chalk and cheese. There may be some homeopathic dose 
of medicine in the carrot so minute as to escape the 
chemist's test. We would, therefore, by no means con- 
demn the roots. We raise them and have faith in them. 
It is not because we like corn and roots less that we thus 
speak, but because we like hay more. We should be sorry 
to confine pur cattle to dry hay alone for the six long 
months of our winter, but if we can not have both hay 
and roots, we speak for the hay. It is for the animal what 
bread is for man, the staff of his life. 

How then can we increase the quantity and quality of 
our hay crop ? We reply, — in the first place, by sowing a 
greater quantity and variety of seed. Our ancestors 
sowed no grass seed at all, relying for a crop of hay 
solely upon the spontaneous production of the soil. A 
step in advance of this was the practice of sowing the 
refuse seed, scattered on the barn floor and around the 
hay stack. Another step was sowing a small quantity of 
two or three varieties of clean, selected seed ; and we have 
another long step to take, and sow liberally of half a 
dozen or even a dozen of the hundreds of the different 
grasses that we find growing naturally in our fields. " He 
that soweth sparingly shall reap also sparingly, and he 
that soweth bountifully shall reap also bountifully," is 
emphatically true in the hay crop. 

We remember the time when the custom was to sow 




196 QUANTITY OF SEED NECESSARY. 

twelve quarts of grass seed to the acre, generally eight 
quarts of timothy and four of clover. This gives about 
14,000,000 seeds, or 300 to the square foot, and this would 
be a sufficiency if we could be assured of an equal distri- 
bution and certain germination, but this is impossible. 
Besides the difficulty of an even distribution, many of the 
seeds are spurious, some are devoured by birds and in- 
sects, and more still are lost by having too much or too 
little depth of earth, generally the former. Most of our 
grass seeds germinate most surely when only covered 
one-fourth of an inch, and by actual experiment it has 
been ascertained that when covered an inch, half the 
seeds fail. 

We can learn something of the necessity of abundant 
seed-sowing by observing how bountifully nature pro- 
vides seed, so as to guard against all contingencies and to 
insure the reproduction of the plant, which seems to be 
the great aim of all vegetation. A bushel of timothy 
will average over 50,000,000 seeds. An acre of corn will 
produce seed enough to re-stock 200 acres. Let us imi- 
tate nature and sow more bountifully, that we may also 
reap more bountifully. It may be possible to overstock 
land with grass seed, but we have never known such an 
instance, and we are confident that a hundred fields are 
damaged for the want of seed where one suffers by being 
overstocked. 

There has been great improvement in the amount of 
seed sown within the past few years, and some of our 
best farmers now sow a bushel of redtop, half a bushel 
of timothy and one-eighth of a bushel of clover. This 
is progress in the right direction, but is this a sufficient 
variety of seed? 

The addition of redtop is a great improvement. 



KEDTOP AND TIMOTHY GRASS. 197 

Though it does not show itself much the first year among 
its more precocious and aspiring neighbors, timothy and 
clover, still it fills the lower and vacant places, and as the 
clover dies out, raises its modest and beautiful crest and 
furnishes a hay of the first quality, especially for neat 
stock, and it has the great advantage over timothy, of 
not suffering so much from not being cut just as it comes 
to maturity. The long stem of timothy, as soon as it has 
served its purpose of conveying nutriment for the pro- 
duction of seed, becomes dry, hard, woody fibre, about 
as indigestible as an old chestnut rail ; but redtop thickens 
up from the bottom, and remains succulent for a long 
time. 

There are, however, many other grasses worthy of cul- 
tivation besides timothy and redtop. And here also we 
should learn a lesson from the variety which naturally 
grows in our rich and permanent meadows and pastures. 
An examination of an old, rich pasture will disclose ten 
or a dozen, and sometimes even twenty distinct species 
of grass growing side by side. These different varieties 
draw on the soil for different elements of nutrition, so 
that the exhaustion of any one element is not so great as 
might be supposed. Mother earth is much like a mother 
hen, that scratches no harder for a dozen chickens than 
she does for one. We should consider it miserable econ- 
omy to bring up one, two, or three chickens under one 
hen, and it is almost as bad economy to sow only two or 
three kinds of grass seed. In most of our newly stocked 
ground many vacant spaces occur, and though they may 
seem small, still in the aggregate they amount to a large 
quantity, and very sensibty diminish the harvest. The 
grass v/hicli does grow may have a more rank growth 
from luxurir.ting in so much space, but does not furnish 



198 SELF-SOWN GK ASSES. 

SO tender and delicate hay as when it grows more 
compactly. 

We have seen fields of timothy that, at a little distance, 
looked as though they might yield a great crop of hay ; 
but when we examined them more closely, we found the 
stems too far apart. Nature abhors a vacuum, and if the 
meadow is rich and remains for a series of years in grass, 
fills up these vacant spaces with other varieties; but 
would it not be better for us to take time by the forelock, 
and sow a greater variety of seed, and not waste years in 
waiting for nature to make up for our deficiency ? In her 
abhorrence of vacuums she may put in such kinds of grass 
or weeds as we do not like, and it is always better to 
forestall and guide her in the operation. Where she gets 
her seeds to fill up the vacant spaces is a mystery. Some 
of them may have lain dormant in the earth, only wait- 
ing for favorable circumstances under which to germinate ; 
others may be brought by the winds and the fowls of the 
air, or be disseminated in the top-dressing. 

We were surprised a few years since by seeing our 
fields covered with the meadow-fescue, of which we had 
never sown a seed, and did not even know the grass. It 
still lingers in our meadows, but whence it came is as 
much a mystery as the change of the wind. We found it 
an excellent early grass, and should not object to it as a 
standard variety to be sown regularly. 

Where land is stocked down for grazing, a variety of 
grasses which will ripen in succession is desirable, and 
we have varieties that are maturing in succession for six 
months of the year. In April the spear-grass blossoms ; 
in May, the meadow fox-tail, the sweet-scented vernal and 
white clover. The number of grasses that blossom in 
June is legion. This is the carnival, or rather the grami- 



VARIETY OF GRASS SEED NECESSARY. 199 

nivorous season for grazing stock, more grasses coming 
to perfection during this month than at any other season. 
We can only mention the most important : timothy, the 
various fescues, orchard grass, June grass, rye grass and 
red clover, which we class among the grasses, though 
strictly it is a leguminous plant. In July, come redtop, 
fowl-meadow and English bent. In August we have 
floating fox-tail, blue grass and creeping meadow ; and in 
September, the hairy panic, reed grass and poverty grass, 
with many of the above mentioned, which continue in 
blossom from month to month. 

It is worthy of observation that almost every grass 
will continue growing, if mowed or cropped before it 
goes to seed. As the production of seed is the great end 
aimed at in nature, no plant seems contented till it has 
accomplished this end, but lives and struggles against 
all obstacles till it has fulfilled this mission. When it has 
accomplished the purpose of its existence in producing 
seed after its kind, it is ready to die ; therefore our pas- 
tures should be so closely grazed that none of the grasses 
will run to seed, and they will remain green and luxuri- 
ant throughout the season. 

In stocking lands designed for mowing fields, it is 
desirable, though not essential, to sow those grasses which 
will mature about the same time. June, or Kentucky blue 
grass, as it is termed at the South and West, meadow 
fescue, red clover and orchard grass require early cutting 
in order to secure them in their best estate for forage. 
Timothy, the standard grass of New England, comes a little 
later, and redtop, next to timothy the great favorite, later 
still. 

We desire to speak a word in favor of the much neglected 
orchard grass, which we have found one of the most luxu- 



200 OKCHAKD GRASS. 

riant and nutritions, both for grazing and for hay. It 
never says die. It is the first to furnish a bite for the cat- 
tle in spring, is little effected by the droughts of July and 
August, and continues growing till the severe cold of No- 
vember locks up the sources of its nourishment. When cut 
or grazed it starts up with the vigor of the fabled hydra. 

During the past summer we mowed a luxuriant crop of 
this grass in June and another was ready for the machine 
by the first of August. In a few days it was fit for graz- 
ing, and as we did not wish to mow it a third time we let 
in the cattle from an adjacent pasture, to graze upon it, 
leaving the passage between the two fields open. The 
feed in the pasture was good, but the cattle were seldom 
seen to return to it, evidently preferring the luxuriant 
and succulent orchard grass. 

We advise no man to sow it on his lawn, for it would 
need cutting every morning before breakfast. We have 
grown it in one field for eight years, and see no diminu- 
tion of the yield, though cutting two crops regularly each 
year. If cut while in blossom, both cattle and horses are 
exceedingly fond of the hay, and do well upon it. If left 
to stand till the seed are matured, it becomes more tough 
and wiry than even timothy, and cattle will need to have 
their teeth sharpened to eat it in this stage of its growth. 

Our good opinion of this grass is strengthened by that of 
the late Judge Buel, one of the most discerning of agricul- 
tural observers, who says : *'The American cocksfoot, or 
orchard grass, is one of the most abiding grasses we have. 
It is probably better adapted than any other grass to sow 
with clover and other seeds for permanent pasture or for 
hay, as it is fit to cut with clover, and grows remarkably 
quick when cropped by cattle. Its good properties consist 
in its early and rapid growth and in its endurance of 



NOT AFFECTED BY DROUTH. 201 

drouth. Sheep will pass over every other grass to feed 
upon it. I prefer it to almost every other grass." 

Mr. Sanders of Kentucky says : " My observation and 
experience have induced me to rely mainly on orchard 
grass and red clover. Indeed, I sow no other sort of 
grass seed. These grasses mixed make the best hay of 
all the grasses for this climate. It is nutritious and 
well adapted as food for stock. Orchard grass is ready 
for grazing in the spring ten or twelve days sooner than 
any other. When grazed down and the stock are turned 
off, it will be ready for regrazing in less than half the time 
required for Kentucky blue grass. In summer it will 
grow more in a day than blue grass will in a week." 

This is the testimony of a man from the grass-growing 
State of Kentucky, where we have generally supposed 
that blue grass was the king of grasses. We might cite 
the testimony of Judge Peters, of Pennsylvania, and other 
eminent agriculturists, in favor of orchard grass, but we 
have said enough to call the attention of farmers to it, and 
if its general cultivation can be introduced into Massa- 
chusetts, we shall feel that we have done the State some 
service. 

We will add that we do not favor sowing orchard 
grass alone. It is inclined to grow in tussocks, and thus 
leave much vacant space in the soil. This may be rem- 
edied, in a measure, by thorough pulverization of the soil, 
and by liberal allowance of seed, at least, two bushels to 
the acre ; still we should prefer to sow clover, meadow 
fescue, timothy and redtop with it ; so that the surface 
of the ground may be filled with roots, and all the virtues 
of the soil be brought into requisition. 

We have found, too, that orchard grass loves a deep, 
rich, moist soil, and are confident that in such a soil no 
9* 



202 FASHION AMONG FARMERS. 

other grass yields such an abundant harvest. Why it is 
so much neglected among us we can not divine, unless it 
is the fashion of sowing timothy and clover, and fashion 
is as much a tyrant among farmers as among the ladies, 
though showing his power in a different mode. 




CHAPTER XXV. 

CUTTING, CURING, AND STORING HAY. 
f S a second suggestion for the improvement of our 



hay crop, we mention early cutting. As to the time 
of cutting grass, farmers disagree. Some recom- 
-^W^^ mend cutting when the grass is in bloom, others 
when the blossoms have just fallen, others when the seed 
is in its milky state, and others still when the seeds are 
ripe. The advocates of the last-mentioned time are few, 
and growing beautifully less. As attention has been paid 
to the time of cutting grass and the observation of farm- 
ers has been turned in this direction, a great change has 
occurred in the opinion and practice on this point, and 
the grass of Massachusetts is probably cut a fortnight 
earlier now than it was ten years since. Towards this re- 
sult the mowing machine has greatly contributed, as it en- 
ables us to finish the hay harvest with great dispatch. 
Still the practice of many farmers is to be dilatory in 
their haying, and the consequence is that they lose much 
of the virtue of their hay. In 1856, the able and efficient 
secretary of the Massachusetts board of agriculture ad- 
dressed a series of inquiries on the hay crop to one or 
more farmers in each town in the state, and this question 
was asked among others : " At what stage of growth do 
you prefer to cut grass to make into hay ? " 

Answers were received from more than two hundred 



204 EAELY CUTTING OF GRASS. 

towns, and those from a hundred and fifty towns, about 
three-fourths of the whole, a majority sufficient to over- 
come any veto, were in favor of cutting timothy and red- 
top when in full bloom, and red clover when about half 
the heads are in blossom. This we think is the true 
theory, but we fear the practice, though greatly improved 
of late years, is not up to the theory. 

Grass passes so rapidly from the blossoming stage to 
that of mature seed, that before we are aware, the vir- 
tues of the plant are concentrated in the seed, and the 
stalks and leaves become dry, hard and indigestible 
woody fibre. 

Some argue that cattle love this dry fodder, and that 
there is more nourishment in it than in its green, succu- 
lent state. If so, why do not the instincts of cattle lead 
them to eat it when roving in the pastures and acting 
their option as to what they will eat ? 

All must have observed that when in any locality in a 
pasture the grass has gone to seed, cattle avoid it ; and 
nothing but starvation will induce them to eat such grass. 
The instincts of cattle are a pretty sure guide, certainly 
as likely to be correct as the abstract reasonings of the 
minority of men. 

The true principle in haying, is to secure the hay at a 
time when we can harvest the largest amount that shall 
be like grass in its perfect state, and this we can do when 
the grass has attained its growth, and before the starch, 
sugar and gluten of the plant have gone to the formation 
of seed, or been converted into woody fibre. The starch 
and other nutritious compounds are on the increase so 
long as the plant grows; but with blossoming, growth 
ceases, and now is the time with the least labor to secure 
the greatest amount of forage in its best condition. 



CUEING THE CROP. 205 

Our mothers, when they sent us out to gather pennyroyal 
and boneset, with the extract of which they expected to 
make good herb tea, always instructed us to select the 
herbs in full bloom. They may not have understood the 
chemistry of plants, but they knew from trial that these 
herbs while in blossom made the strongest decoctions, 
and that this was the time to dry them for future use. 
Miserable herb-drink would boneset make, if left in the 
field till the stalks and leaves were dry and the substance 
of the plant transformed into seed. Now dried grass is 
not unlike dry herbs, and a good test of the quality of 
hay is found in making a decoction from it; and whoever 
tries it will find that hay cut while the grass was in 
blossom makes the strongest extract. 

Just so the hop-grower is always careful to pick his 
hops, not in the old of the moon in August as the rule of 
superstition has it, but when the hops are in full bloom, 
and the pollen of the flowers most abundant, for picked 
at this time they make the strongest ale. We do not de- 
sire to make ale from our hay, but we do desire to pre- 
serve all the aroma of the flowers and all the stimulus 
that green hay gives to the animal system. 

We have heard it said that timothy cut when in blossom 
is apt to be dusty. We doubt very much the truth of 
this. The idea probably originates from the pollen of the 
blossoms being scattered at the time of harvest, giving 
the appearance of dust, but from such dust we should ap- 
prehend no evil to cattle or horses. 

A third suggestion for the improvement of our hay 
crop is the mode of curing and storing it. We have al- 
ready suggested that hay is analogous to dry herbs, and 
that hay is best from which the strongest decoction can 
be made. Here, too, we can learn a lesson from the man- 



206 STIMULATING EFFECT OF HAY. 

ner in which our mothers cured and preserved their herbs. 
If we remember rightly, it was not to put the herbs in 
the open air, exposed to sun and winds till they were 
crisp and brown as the leaves of autumn ; but they were 
carefully dried in the garret, and when sufficiently dry, but 
still retaining the green look and plastic condition of life, 
were wrapped in papers and stowed in the medicine chest. 

We fully believe there is such a thing as drying hay ex- 
cessively, exposing it to the sun and winds till much of 
its virtue has escaped into thin air. Every farmer must 
have noticed the stimulating effect of the aroma of dry- 
ing hay, which enables him to perform more labor in hay- 
ing, and with less fatigue, than in any other occupation. 
He feels, as he sticks his pitchfork into a cock of hay, that 
it must come. A man with ordinary muscle feels that 
he has the strength of Ajax. Raking among the heavy 
windrows seems to him but play. This stimulating effect 
we ascribe to a principle in hay similar to the theine in 
tea ; and to preserve this principle for the benefit of the 
horses and cattle, should be our aim in curing hay. 

In order to do this, hay should be exposed but little to 
the sun and winds, and dried as far as possible in the 
cock. Of course no good farmer will expose his hay to 
the dews and rains. The starch, sugar and gum of grass, 
which are the fat-producing qualities, are all soluble in 
water, and are wasted by contact with it. The hay cap is 
a great improvement, as it not only keeps out the water, 
but keeps in the theine. This stimulating principle, 
which, for the want of a better name, we call theine, if it 
does not contribute directly to building up the animal 
system, at least acts negatively in preventing the waste 
of the tissues, acting upon the animal very much as green 
tea does upon man. 



THE ROWEN CROP. 20T 

The tired washer- woman is refreshed by her cup of tea 
at noon, and goes to her work after dinner with renewed 
energy. Beef and bread do not give her so much strength 
as does her coveted beverage. A toil-worn soldier once said 
to us, as he was sipping his cup of tea of a cold winter's 
morning, " Good green tea sets me up for all day," and we 
have no doubt good green hay "sets up" the horse for 
his all-day labor. With many persons hay is hay, no 
matter whether green or brown, bright or moldy; but 
there is as much difference in hay as in tea. 

The Chinese tell us that the young, fresh leaves are 
the most tender and delicate, furnish the most soluble 
matter and give the highest flavor, and that the difference 
between green and black teas does not originate with the 
shrub, but in the different mode of curing. In making 
green tea the leaves are roasted immediately after they 
are gathered, and the whole operation of rolling and dry- 
ing is speedy; but in making black tea the leaves are 
spread in the air for some time after being gathered, and 
when rolled are exposed again to the air for a few hours 
in a soft and moist state. It is, therefore, by a lengthened 
exposure to the air, accompanied by a slight fermentation, 
that the dark color is given to the black teas. Whoever 
prefers black hay to green can easily tinge his grass with 
the dark hue by exposing it to the air long enough ; and 
we believe that more hay is damaged by this exposure, 
than by being mowed away in too green a condition. 

We desire to say one word here for the aftermath, or 
rowen crop. This is often spoken of as of little value. 
We have heard it compared to the foam of syllabub, hav- 
ing no substance in it. It might as well be said that 
grass has no substance in it. Kowen is simply the green 
grass preserved for winter use ; and for sheep, calves and 



208 STORAGE OF HAY. 

milch cows we know no forage equal to it. For horses 
and oxen, upon whose muscular system the great tax is 
laid, we should prefer hay made from more mature grass, 
that furnishes more fibrin. As in summer we turn our 
cows out to grass and keep the oxen stall-fed on old hay, 
so in winter we should feed the milk-giving cows with 
rowen, and the oxen and horses with more mature hay. 

By cutting our grass early, before the plant had be- 
come exhausted in production of seed, we have been en- 
abled for many years to cut a second crop, and though the 
market price of this is always less than for the first crop, 
yet for feeding to certain kinds of stock we have found it 
preferable. One great trouble with rowen has been that 
it came so late in the season as to render the harvesting 
of it difficult, and much of it has been secured in bad con- 
dition; but with an early hay harvest, the aftermath 
comes earlier, and by curing it mostly in the cock there 
is little extra labor, and it will prove a very remunerative 
addition to our stock of forage. 

The storage of hay is another topic to which we will 
briefly call your attention. Shall we put our hay into large, 
tight mows, or into open barns and on loose scaffolds ? 
If curing and keeping hay is analogous to curing and keep- 
ing tea, then the larger and tighter the bays the better 
will be the hay. We have seen a large and famous barn 
with a shaft coming down in the center of the mow for 
the purpose of ventilating the hay. We should as soon 
think of ventilating a tea-chest. We have seen other 
barns with wide gaping cracks on the sides of the mows, 
apparently left for the purpose of admitting air to the hay, 
and we were advised, not long since, to put none but 
thoroughly-dried hay at the bottom of the mow, as the 
air could not reach this part to cure it more effectually. 



HAY IMPERFECTLY CURED. 209 

These facts show that the true principle in keeping 
hay is not universally understood. Air may be essential in 
the curing of hay, but not in its storage. After it is ready 
for the barn, we would not object to having the hay sealed 
up hermetically. Even green grass thus sealed can not 
ferment or decay, any more than does a peach when can- 
ned. Decay is only a slow process of combustion, and 
combustion can not take place without air. If we ex- 
amine our mows after we have put upon them some im- 
perfectly cured hay, we shall find that it is only the top, 
where the air can circulate, that ferments and heats. 

In the olden times of New England it was customary 
for the country clergyman to eke out his meager salary 
by cultivating a small farm, and in the haying season, the 
farmers made what was called a bee, and on an appointed 
day came together and cut the minister's grass and 
stored it in his barn, generally finishing the whole job in. 
one day. 

It was a joyous occasion, and the farmers were early 
at their work, and we well remember being waked up in 
the morning by the merry voices of the mowers, and the 
musical clang of the scythes as they were whetted in 
concert. 

Almost necessarily much of the hay was housed before 
it was thoroughly dry, but being stored in one day, there 
was little opportunity for the air to act upon it. We 
have fed out much hay thus imperfectly cured and rapidly 
stored, and though the top of the mow was sometimes 
moldy, the bulk of the hay came out in good condition. 
We very much question whether green hay placed on a 
scaffold would keep as well. Imperfectly cured hay 
stored in a mow at intervals of a few days, will be very 
likely to furnish layers of musty fodder, for the surface- 



210 FEEDING HAY. 

section of each batch will thus be exposed to the air and 
will ferment and mold. 

In feeding hay, it is found economical to cut down the 
mow in sections and not to feed from the entire surface, 
as the exposure to the air in this case is much less. It is 
often remarked that hay fed directly from the mow 
spends much better than when it is moved from one barn 
to another, and we have no doubt it is so, as the hay can 
not be moved without losing a portion of its aroma. 
More reprehensible still is the practice of pitching on the 
barn floor overnight what may be required to be fed out 
in the morning. We should as soon think of taking out 
of the tea-chest at one meal the allowance to be steeped 
at the next. 




CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE MOWING LOT. 



is a final suggestion for the improvement of our 
hay crop, we would mention a little more atten- 



tion to the mowing lots. We draw on these lots 
year after year, and often make no deposits by 
which to enable them to honor our drafts. This is too 
much after the manner of the horse-leech, which cries, 
" Give, give." There is a homely proverb which says, 
'' We can't get something for nothing," but many farmers 
act as though they could get grass for nothing. It is won- 
derfully cheap, and grows in spite of neglect, but there 
is a limit to the capacity of our meadows and pastures to 
p»roduce even grass. 

Already the average production of the meadows of 
Massachusetts is less than one ton per acre, and some 
three or four acres of pasture are required to support a 
cow, whereas the average of hay should be two tons per 
acre, and a cow should not be compelled to traverse more 
than 160 square rods of grazing for her support. How 
shall we bring the grass lands of Massachusetts up to 
this standard ? We answer, by the two simple means of 
tile and manure. We formerly thought that manure was 
the foundation of good farming, but our late experience 
is that draining is the first thing. They certainly work 
well together, and neither is fully efficient without the 



212 ADVANTAGE OF DRAIKAGE. 

other, but draining comes first in order of time. More 
of our land needs draining than is commonly supposed. 
Wherever water stands after a shower, or the coarse 
herbage shows that the roots have a watery bed, there 
the tile are necessary, before remunerative crops can be 
obtained. 

An energetic manufacturer, who has lately turned his 
energies to farming, recently said to us, " Tile works like 
magic on my land. Where my horses could hardly walk 
even in a dry time, I now can plow immediately after a 
rain.'* Such is the experience of all who have tried 
thorough drainage. Not only can the land be worked 
immediately after a rain, but a fortnight or a month 
earlier in the spring, and the lengthening of the season 
in the autumn is nearly as great as in the spring. Para- 
doxical as it may seem, the drained lands suffer much less 
in a drouth than the undrained, the roots of the grasses 
having more " depth of earth,*' and the moisture being 
drawn up in due proportion by the capillary attraction of 
the granules of the soil, acting like small tubes, as does 
sugar or a lamp wick. There are thousands of acres of 
mowing lands in Massachusetts where the herbage is 
scanty and of poor quality, not because the soil is poor, 
but because the roots are water-soaked. Water is good ; 
neither man, beast nor plant can live without it, but neither 
animal nor plant designed to live on terra firma can 
flourish if compelled to make a home in water. Drain- 
age alone will so change the character of these lands that 
more nutritious grasses will spontaneously spring up 
where the coarse aquatic plants once grew. Wherever 
water stands, the land must be cold. The constant 
evaporation carries off all the heat furnished by the earth 
or by the sun. 



HOW TO ENLARGE THE FARM. 213 

Every tyro that is big enough to go bathing, knows that 
the evaporation from the surface of his body, as he comes 
out of the water, makes him shiver even in a warm 
summer day, and every one that has experienced this sen- 
sation should know enough not to let his land lie shiver- 
ing in the wet. The quantity of heat that becomes latent 
by the expansion of Avater into vapor will surprise those 
that have not made accurate experiments upon it. Chem- 
ists tell us that steam contains a thousand degrees more 
of caloric than the water from which it is evaporated. If 
we can save all this caloric in the soil by draining off the 
surplus water, instead of leaving it to be evaporated, it 
will prove a great gain. When the land is thoroughly 
drained, there will be less danger from the late frosts in 
spring and the early frosts of autumn. We have noticed a 
part of a field of buckwheat that had been drained, in full 
bloom after a September frost, while another part, un- 
drained, was damaged. Grass stands the cold and wet 
better than any other crop, but if we wish green fields 
early in the spring and late in the fall, they must be 
drained, and thus be rendered dry and warm. We are 
more and more convinced that a warm soil, other things 
being equal, gives great advantage, and in no way can this 
warmth be so effectually promoted as by the use of tile. 

By draining our meadows we also double and sometimes 
quadruple the depth of the soil. The theory is that the 
land-owner owns from the surface to the center of the 
earth, but practically it often happens that he owns only 
a few inches of the surface, for water has possession of 
the balance. In much of our undrained land the roots 
of the grasses extend down but a short distance. Meet- 
ing the cold water, they are chilled and repelled. The 
roots of the trees, even, do not venture into the cold, in- 



214 DEEPENING THE SOIL. 

hospitable, watery subsoil. We have often noticed trees 
struggling to live in wet, undrained land. They send out 
their roots foraging for food, but the roots never pene- 
trate to any great depth. They are confined to the sur- 
face, and furnish precarious sustenance and precarious 
foot-hold for the trees, which are stunted in growth, and 
are often overturned by the wind, the roots taking up 
with them the thin stratum of soil, and exposing a subsoil 
almost destitute of vegetable fiber. 

The propensity of land-owners is to add land to land, 
to extend the superficial area of the farm, to covet, as 
Scott says, " All that lies contiguous to us." Will it not 
be just as laudable an ambition to extend our possessions 
perpendicularly as laterally ? Is there not as much satis- 
faction in harvesting two tons of hay from one acre as the 
same amount from two acres ? This creating good land 
from poor, making ten blades of grass to grow where one 
grew before, furnishes a satisfaction analogous to the 
pleasure of the Creator, who looked upon the works of 
his hands and pronounced them good. Adding acre to 
acre is merely a commercial transaction, and shows depth 
of purse rather than of mind. We have no objection to 
large farms, if the capacity of the landlord is equal to the 
extent of his domain ; but to skim over a great surface 
for a little produce is neither pleasurable nor profitable. 
Our meadows have been specially exposed to this skim- 
ming process. In the case of our hoed crops, we know 
it will not pay to plow and waste our seed and the sweat 
of our brow upon cold, wet land ; but our meadows 
we have been inclined to treat as though grass could grow 
anywhere. Grass is very accommodating, and does try to 
grow in the most uncongenial soil, but a few tile under- 
neath the surface give great aid and comfort even to grass. 



\ 

TOP-DRESSING NECESSARY. 215 

When land is drained the air penetrates the soil, decom- 
posing dead vegetable and animal matter, and recompos- 
ing it into new life. This twofold action of air is won- 
derful. No sooner does an animal or vegetable die than 
the oxygen of the air seizes upon it to resolve it into its 
elements and reconstruct these elements into new forms 
of life and beauty. But this process can not go on when 
air is excluded by water. "Witness our muck swamps, 
which are vast accumulations of vegetable matter, kept 
from decay because covered with water. When drained, 
the muck begins to decompose, the swamp settles, and 
tho nutritious grasses make their appearance upon its 
surface. Not only does the air penetrate the drained land, 
but the rains, bringing with them the nutritious gases of 
the atmosphere, descend and percolate through the soil, 
leaving these gases for the nourishment of plants. This 
is the normal mode in which water should act upon our 
meadows. They like to drink water as man drinks it, 
but are just as much opposed to being drowned as man is. 

Drainage, however fundamental it may be for the im- 
provement of our grass crop, is not alone sufficient to ac- 
complish all that is needed. Most of our meadows must 
be top-dressed if we desire them to accomplish all that 
their capacity allows. Draining is the forerunner of ma- 
nuring, and prepares the way for the efficient action of the 
manure. Subtracting the water does, indeed, allow the 
vegetable and mineral matter already in the soil to be 
digested by the plant, but few New England lands have 
all the food that plants need, and the deficiency we must 
supplement from the compost heap. 

We know no crop that feels the quickening influence 
of manure sooner than grass, nor any that yields a more 
grateful return. Manure, applied to a hoed crop, in- 



216 TOP-DRESSING NECESSARY. 

creases weeds as well as the crop, but, applied to grass 
land, we have ever found the grasses to get the ascend- 
ancy, and the grass improves in quantity and quality jean 
after year. It is just as unreasonable to suppose that 
meadows can endure perpetual cropping without some 
return, as that plowed land can. The meadows may en- 
dure the exhausting process longer, as in plowing, the veg- 
etable matter in the soil is more exposed to the action of 
the air, and consequently wastes more rapidly, but we 
can not take off two tons of hay from a meadow yearly, 
without diminishing the potash, soda, and other salts 
requisite in the growth of grass. 

Our alluvial meadows, formed by the deposit of the 
rivers, and annually refreshed by their overflow, may not 
need a top-dressing. The rivers often supply all the top- 
dressing necessary, and would wash away a good share of 
what we might apply. These river meadows form our 
most natural and productive mowing fields, where red- 
top, one of our best grasses, luxuriates. All other grass 
lands need, and should receive, aid from the compost heap. 
We have found autumn the best time to apply this compost. 
It is a season of comparative leisure, the meadows are less 
cut up by the cartage than they are in the spring, the 
fields receive some protection by the compost from the 
rigors of the winter, and the grasses receive the stimulus 
and take an early start in the spring. 

It is objected to autumn top-dressing by some, that the 
rains and winds will waste much of the fertilizing matter. 
If the compost is fine, as it should be, and the meadows 
are covered with a decent growth of aftermath, as they 
should be, there is little danger of waste. It takes a great 
rain to wash manure from a meadow where the spires of 
grass are thick and of some length. If cattle are allowed 



INJUEY BY OVER-GRAZING. 217 

to graze the mowing-lots till they are bare as a bald head, 
then the objection of washing off the manure might have 
some force, but no good farmer that takes pride enough 
in his meadows to top-dress them, will allow them to be 
thus over-grazed. Compost can not repair the damage 
done by over-grazing. Grasses, like all other vegetation, 
demand an elaboration of sap in the leaves and a return 
of some of this elaborated sap to the roots, and a man 
that shaves too closely with his mowing-machine, or al- 
lows his cattle to graze too closely, will find in his penny 
saved a pound lost. 

One of the most observing of farmers remarked to us, 
recently, that " the close grazing of meadows is the easily 
besetting sin of the farming community." Top-dressing 
may remedy in a measure the evil effects consequent upon 
too close cropping, but can not compensate for the want 
of that vitality in the roots which is derived from the nor- 
mal breathing of the plant through its leaves. It is cu- 
rious to notice how lawns that are frequently mowed 
manage to secure this breathing apparatus. The grasses 
send out numerous leaflets close to the surface of the 
ground, which escape the scythe of the mower, mow he 
ever so closely, and thus the plants are sufficiently vital- 
ized by the action of the air to maintain a stunted 
growth. 

This is not the time to discuss the ingredients of the 
compost heap which is adapted for a top-dressing of our 
meadows. We will only say that we have found a compost 
made of muck and leached ashes in the proportion of six 
or eight bushels of muck to one of ashes, an excellent 
fertilizer for grass. The wood ashes furnish the inorganic 
food in great variety, while the muck supplies the vegeta- 
ble matter and renders the soil light and porous, ready to 
10 



218 ]VIATERIAL FOR TOP-DRESSING. 

absorb the gases of the air and furnish them to the grasses 
as they may be demanded. In case the meadows are 
naturally cold and wet, abounding already in clay or peat, 
we should substitute for the basis of the compost heap, 
sand instead of muck. Sand alone, when scattered upon 
a peaty meadow, has a wonderful effect in warming the 
land and inducing the growth of sweet, nutritious herb- 
age. Indeed, we have found that meadows, well drained, 
after they have been mucked for a series of years, are 
greatly benefited by a top-dressing of sand, or better still, 
by a coating of the alluvial soil which is to be found on 
the river bank. 

This alluvium contains not only sand but the disinte- 
grated granules of the various rocks and soils that the river 
has brought down from miles above. We have used this 
alluvium lately in the compost designed for top-dressing 
and have been much pleased with the result. Where it 
can not be obtained easily, the wash of the highway, or the 
leaf mold from the forest answers a good purpose. The 
latter is particularly rich in all the elements of vegetable 
nutrition, and our forests can well spare some of it for the 
benefit of the meadows. 

On a clover ley, plaster operates most favorably. Spread 
broad-cast early in the spring at the rate of 100 pounds 
to the acre, it increases this leguminous crop greatly. 
This great result from so small a quantity can not be at- 
tributed solely to the increase of plant food furnished by 
the two main elements of plaster, — sulphur and lime, — 
although as clover contains both these elements, they 
doubtless contribute directly to its nourishment. But 
plaster is also a great absorbent, and its efficiency must 
in a measure be attributed to its power of retaining the 
ammonia of the air, and furnishing it to the clover and 



PLASTER AND ASHES. 219 

other plants as tliey may demand. Plaster alone can not 
be relied upon to keep our meadows in heart for a series of 
years. Those who have seen its magical effects for a year 
or two, and have supposed that they could sell their hay 
and still keep up their meadows by spreading a little 
plaster upon them, have found themselves mistaken, and 
have complained that their fields became plaster-sick. 
The sickness was simply starvation for the want of a 
greater variety of food. Plaster, from its own elements 
and by absorption from the air, can furnish only two of 
the many inorganic elements which enter into the composi- 
tion of all our grasses. Clover is doubtless more benefited 
by its action than the other grasses, as the ash of clover 
shows over 30 per cent of lime. Plaster is found to act 
with great efficacy in connection with wood ashes, as 
they supply the inorganic elements in which plaster is 
deficient. 

Farmers may differ about the action of plaster, but in 
the efficiency of barn-yard manure they are all agreed, 
and in the production of this, hay is the main reliance. 
Why should not more of this manure be applied to the 
reproduction of hay, and thus the law of action and re- 
action be carried out ? The more hay, the more manure ; 
and the more manure, the more hay. 



LEOTUEE EIGHTH. 




CHAPTER XXVII. 

ABOUT POTATOES. 

|Y the returns of the industry of Massachusetts for 
1865, we find that potatoes rank third in money 
value among the agricultural products of this 
^ state, grass and corn only taking precedence. 
The number of bushels returned as the product of that 
year was 3,826,540, valued at $2,607,202. This includes 
only the potatoes raised in field culture. The amount 
raised in market gardens we have no means of esti- 
mating. The number of bushels of potatoes was nearly 
twice as great as the number of bushels of corn, but 
the cash value of the potatoes was estimated a little 
less. Considering the increased attention paid to the 
culture of potatoes since 1865, and adding the large 
amount raised in market gardens, we are safe in say- 
ing that this crop is now the second agricultural prod- 
uct of this state, and is destined to assume still higher 
importance. 

Our climate aud soil are well adapted to the production 
of this esculent, and the consumption is steadily on the 
increase. The crop has this great advantage to recom- 
mend it to the attention of eastern farmers, that owing 



VALUE OF THE POTATO CHOP. 221 

to its bulky nature and the consequent cost of transpor- 
tation, it does not come in competition with the products 
of the fertile prairies. In raising corn and wheat we may 
not keep abreast with our western friends, but in raising 
potatoes we have the advantage. It has been feared by 
some that our home production might glut the market, 
but the fact that the price has risen as steadily as the 
production has increased, may well banish this fear. We 
well remember when the price of a bushel of potatoes 
ranged from a Yankee shilling to twenty-five cents, and 
when the price ran up to half a dollar, it was feared that 
potatoes would be considered a luxury only to be afforded 
by the rich. Many looked for a substitute, and tried tur- 
nips and rice, but nothing was found to fill the place of 
this valued esculent. Now that the price in Massachu- 
setts averages at the farmer's door seventy-five cents, and 
in the retail markets of the city over a doUar a bushel, the 
consumption is far greater than when the price was one- 
fourth of this sum. 

By the United States census of 1860 the amount raised 
in the whole country was 110,571,201 bushels, of which 
99,000,000, or nearly nine-tenths of the whole, were 
grown in the free States. Estimating the price at fifty 
cents a bushel, the proceeds from potatoes alone would 
have been, in round numbers, f 55,000,000, and then this 
crop ranked fourth among the edible vegetable produc- 
tions of the country, — wheat, corn and oats being more 
valuable. At present prices and with the present pro- 
duction, the estimate for the whole country must be over 
1100,000,000. 

The potato was formerly used extensively in fattening 
stock, but the enhanced price since the potato disease first 
made its appearance, some twenty-five years since, forbids 



222 NUTRITIVE QUALITIES OF THE POTATO. 

sucli disposal at the present time. If a farmer should now 
feed one hundred to one hundred and fifty bushels of po- 
tatoes, for such was the allowance for fattening a yoke of 
oxen, he would find it difficult to get his money back. 
The small potatoes may, however, still be fed to cattle 
with advantage. 

As an article of diet the potato compares better with 
bread than any other edible vegetable grown in temperate 
climates. Like bread, it is farinaceous, free from marked 
taste, and thus is adapted to all tastes, and is fitted to be 
cooked and eaten with almost every other variety of 
food. Some object to the potato because it is so tasteless, 
but the same objection would hold good against water. 
Turnips and onions certainly have, more taste, but where 
one eats these vegetables, five eat potatoes. It has become 
an indispensable luxury to the rich, and an equally indis- 
pensable necessity to the poor. How our fathers lived 
without it seems to us a mystery. Ignorance of its vir- 
tues must certainly have been bliss to them. We should 
be sorry to go back to those good old times. Its introduc- 
tion as an article of food some three hundred years since, 
was an era in human happiness and progress. Valuable 
as is the potato as an article of diet, its composition shows 
that it is intended as an accompaniment of meat and not 
as a substitute for it, and this is the mode of using it 
adopted by all nations. The analysis of it gives seventy- 
five per cent, water and twenty-five per cent, dry nutri- 
tive matter. These proportions, however, vary with the 
different stages of ripeness and the different varieties. 
The more mature the potato, the less is the quantity of 
water, and some of the richer varieties give as high as 
thirty-two per cent, of dry nutritive matter. The latter 
consists of starch sixty-two per cent., sugar and gum fif- 



INTKODUCTION OF THE POTATO. 223 

teen, protein compounds nine, fatty matter one, cellular 
fiber nine, mineral matter four. The dried potato is less 
nutritive, weight for weight, in the muscle-forming prop- 
erties, than any of the grains except rice, which it much 
resembles in composition, having, however, one-half per 
cent, more gluten. It is remarkable that the Hindoo, who 
lives mainly on rice, and the Irishman, whose leading ar- 
ticle of diet is the potato, have a physiological likeness, 
being distinguished by the size and prominence of their 
stomachs. This peculiarity is accounted for by the neces- 
sity of their eating a large bulk of food in order to 
be able to extract from it a sufficient amount of nourish- 
ment. 

We can not account for the great and increasing popu- 
larity of the potato as an article of food among the civil- 
ized nations of the earth from its nutritive properties, 
though these are not small. This universal popularity 
which causes the potato to be found on the table of the 
humblest cottager and of the most aristocratic nobleman, 
must be attributed to its adaptedness to all tastes, all 
ages, all climates, and the various grades of health. A 
native of the highlands of a tropical climate, it grows 
everywhere, but loves best the cool climate of the hills, 
and is found nowhere in greater perfection than in New 
England, and, we are confident, is destined to become the 
second crop in value in the Eastern States. 

The potato, greatly as we value it, was very slow in 
making its debut into good society, and its history is at 
once interesting and instructive. It v/as first brought to 
Europe in the middle of the sixteenth century, by the 
Spaniards, under the name of papas, but made very little 
favor on its first introduction, and was considered as fit 
only for cattle. This may not be so strange when we 



224 PREJUDICES AGAINST POTATOES. 

consider that the Spaniards esteemed Hghtly for table use 
all vegetables, garlic and onions excepted. Sir Walter 
Raleigh carried potatoes to England in the latter part of 
the sixteenth century, but he little thought he was carry- 
ing the greatest contribution in the vegetable line Amer- 
ica ever made to the Old World, corn alone excepted. 
Some may perhaps except tobacco also, but we make no 
such exception. Sir Walter planted them on his estate, 
near Cork, and thus unwittingly laid the foundation of 
Ireland's salvation from famine. They were soon carried 
over to England, but it was near half a century before 
they were much known at London. They were first 
raised in botanic gardens as an exotic curiosity, and when 
first used on the table were roasted and steejDed in sack 
and sugar, or baked with marrow and spices, and even 
preserved and candied by the confectioners. 

In 1663 the Royal society took some measures to en- 
courage the raising of potatoes, with the view of making 
them an article of general diet and preventing famine, 
but they met with little success. The reputation of the 
potato was certainly " a plant of slow growth." In books 
of gardening, published towards the close of the seven- 
teenth century, a hundred years after the introduction 
of potatoes into England, they are spoken of slightingly. 
One author says: "They are much used in Ireland and 
America as bread, and may be propagated with advan- 
tage to poor people." Another says: "I do not hear 
that it hath yet been essayed whether they may not 
be propagated in great quantities as food for swine." 
Evelyn, writing in 1699, says : " Plant potatoes in your 
worst ground. Take them up in November for winter 
spending; there will enough remain for re-stocking the 
ground, though ever so exactly gathered." They seem 



CULTIVATION OF VARIETIES. 225 

to have been esteemed, at the close of the seventeenth 
century, very much as we esteem artichokes. 

In the Complete Gardener, published in 1719 by the 
famous nurserymen, London & Wise, they were not 
deemed worthy of even a passing notice; and Bradley, 
another famous horticulturist, speaks of them as inferior 
to radishes. The ignorance and prejudice of our English 
fathers must have been great or they must have had a 
very inferior potato under cultivation. 

Merit is, however, always sure of finding its way sooner 
or later. In the case of potatoes, it was certainly later, 
. for it was not till the middle of the eighteenth century, 
200 years after their introduction, that they were gener- 
ally known and cultivated throughout England. The 
Irish were keener-witted, and enjoyed the comf(jrt and 
profit of potatoes long before their neighbors across the 
channel appreciated them. 

Scotland began to raise potatoes on a small scale in 
gardens about 1T40, and about twenty years after the 
demand for them was so great that the Scotch farmers 
began to raise them in their fields. 

In 1796 about 1700 acres of potatoes were planted in 
Essex county alone, for the supply of the London market. 
The English were, however, slow to learn the best modes 
of cultivation, and for a long time a few of the tubers 
were removed from the ground in autumn and the balance 
left for seed, as Evelyn had recommended, covered with 
litter to save them from the winter's frost. 

In New England the potato has always been appre- 
ciated, and nowhere is it raised in so great perfection and 
cooked in a greater variety of modes and with greater skill. 
So generally is it relished that it appears on the table 
every day in the year, and no vegetable keeps so well 
10* 



226 CULTIVATION OF VARIETIES. 

from one season to another. Whenever meat is cooked 
potatoes are sure to be cooked with it, and a New Eng- 
lander would find it a sorry thing to go back to the good 
old times of his Saxon ancestors, when they sat down to 
the table laded only with meats and black bread. We 
may talk about the "good old times," but if we were put 
back to them, we should find it all talk and no potato. 

In the early days, or rather centuries, of potato cultiva- 
tion, it was treated as a species having no varieties. For 
the introduction of varieties we are indebted to the market 
gardeners near Manchester, England. Encouraged by 
the demand, these gardeners vied with each other in 
securing the earliest and best varieties. They marked the 
plants that flowered early, saved them and sowed their 
seeds, and by again watching for the earliest of these 
they finally obtained varieties which were two months 
earlier than those they had been accustomed to cultivate. 
In the same manner, by selecting the seeds of the most 
farinaceous, the best flavored, best shaped, and most pro- 
ductive, the quality and quantity were as greatly improved 
as the early maturity. 

In this country we have until recently paid too little 
attention to this matter of variety. Some thirty years 
since we reckoned as surely upon a crop of potatoes as 
we now do upon a crop of beans. The potato disease 
was unknown ; and, no matter what variety we planted, 
we expected a return of thirty or forty, and sometimes 
sixty fold. True, there was a difference in quality, then 
as now ; but as long as all varieties were healthy, and the 
tuber was mainly used in feeding stock, we considered 
the variety as of minor importance. Many farmers 
planted the varieties indiscriminately in the same field, 
and housed them in the same bin. 



INJUDICIOUS MIXING OF VARIETIES. 227 

This was ever a slovenly practice, a mixing of tares 
and wheat, which we fear some continue to this day. 
There is as much choice in the varieties of the potato as 
there is in the breeds of cattle ; and, if we wish to attain 
any excellence or profit as cultivators, we must exercise 
the skill and discrimination of the stock-breeders. Some 
are hardy, others delicate ; some ripen early, others late ; 
some are well-flavored, others unpalatable ; some prolific, 
others unproductive; some well-formed, others ugly; 
some farinaceous, others soggy. Now, if we plant healthy 
and diseased potatoes together, it is much like placing a 
robust child to sleep with an aged and infirm person. It 
is possible the vigor of youth may counteract the tendency 
to disease, which contact with the decay of age induces, 
but the chances are against it. Disease of every kind 
propagates itself. " One rotten egg corrupts the whole 
clutch," as the Irish saying is ; and we all know how one 
rotten apple spreads decay through the whole barrel. So, 
in a hill or bin one rotten potato is a prolific source of 
disease to all its companions ; and if we plant healthy and 
delicate potatoes together, or house them together, we 
show either ignorance of the law of catalysis or gross 
carelessness. 

Breeders have laid down the most prominent points of 
a good animal, by which they are governed in awarding 
premiums and selecting stock, with as much faith as a 
churchman has in the thirty-nine articles of his creed ; 
and we propose to name a few characteristics of a good 
potato. In the first place it should be healthy. As a 
good constitution is the first requisite of a good animal, 
so vigor is the leading quality of a good potato. No 
other quality and no combination of qualities will com- 
pensate for the want of this. We have never seen a potato 



228 DIFFERENCE IN FLAVOR. 

that, for table use, came up to the Carter ; but still few 
venture to plant this variety, as its constitution is so im- 
paired either by age or abuse, that it can not resist disease, 
except under the most favorable circumstances. Planted 
on a fresh sod of an old dry pasture, and in a dry sum- 
mer, it may make a good return, and some are so fond of 
this favorite that they continue to plant it, knowing that 
they run more than an even chance of loosing their labor. 
The same objection, though in an inferior degree, lies 
against the Mercer, and indeed against many of the other- 
wise excellent table potatoes. We remember once hearing 
a cautious old bachelor say, that, in selecting a wife he 
should consider health as the prime quality. We were in- 
clined to smile at his placing the physical above the men- 
tal and moral in a wife, but, as a potato has no mental or 
moral quality, we shall certainly place health as first among 
the characteristics of a good variety. 

Next to health we rank good flavor. Some may sneer at 
the idea of flavor in a potato ; but every variety has a 
taste peculiar to itself, as marked as in the different va- 
rieties of apples. That potato is most universally liked, 
which, like pure water, has little taste. Some varieties 
are bitter, like the waters of Marah; and it is a little 
singular that those who are addicted to the use of strong 
potatoes prefer them to the milder kinds, much as those 
who are accustomed to drink the muddy water of the 
Missouri complain of the pure spring water of New Eng- 
land as having no "body" to it. There is no account- 
ing for tastes; but there can be no doubt that an un- 
vitiated taste prefers a mild potato, as it does pure water. 
The flavor depends partly upon the soil where the potato 
is grown, and the material with which the soil is enriched. 
We have known a variety, grown in sandy loam, lightened 



FORM AND PRODUCTIVENESS. 229 

with muck or leaf mold, mild and agreeable ; while the 
same variety, grown in clay, enriched by fresh manure, 
became strong, and even bitter. The Carter is a standard 
potato for a mild, pleasant flavor; the Jackson White, a 
seedling from the Carter, is flavored much like its parent; 
and the Early Goodrich commends itself in this particu- 
lar to universal favor. 

Another characteristic of a good potato is its farinaceous 
quality. Possibly we might become accustomed to a soggy 
potato, so as to prefer it to a mealy one ; but it will be 
some years hence, and after long and self-denying prac- 
tice. Possibly the mealy quality can be carried to excess, 
so that the potato will fall to pieces in boiling, and will 
not have consistency enough to be chopped up, or broiled 
or fried in a second cooking. We have heard this objection 
made to the Dover. The first edition of it is good, light 
as sponge-cake; but it is almost impossible to warm it 
over and bring it on the table in a decent shape. As the 
first cooking is the more important one, and as the fari- 
naceous quality is so desirable, there is little danger of cul- 
tivators paying too much attention to its development. 

Form is another quality to which all potato growers 
should have an eye. A deep-eyed, hunch-backed potato 
may taste just as well as a smooth, well formed one ; but 
there is great waste in cooking it, and the market value 
is and should be less. The Colebrook Seedling is a model 
in its form ; a smooth, egg-shaped potato, with seldom an 
excrescence upon it. The State of Maine and the St. 
Helena are looked upon with great favor, as is many a 
belle, mainly for their good form. We may decry good 
looks, either in women or potatoes, as much as we please, 
still the stubborn truth will remain, that good looks first 
attract the eye, and find a market. 



230 FOKM AND PRODUCTIVENESS. 

Productiveness is a recommendation to the character of 
a potato so obvious that it needs only to be alluded to. 
This quality does not originate solely with the soil, as 
some imagine, any more than does the fattening propen- 
sity of a pig consist solely in the swill-pail. The produc- 
tiveness of an animal runs much in the breed, and it is 
much the same in the vegetable. Some varieties of the 
potato yield abundantly where others would sparingly. 
In the monthly report of the agricultural commissioner 
for December last, we find a table exhibiting the jdeld of 
the several varieties of potato grown upon the grounds 
of the department the past season, from which we learn 
that the greatest producer at Washington, as determined 
by one summer's trial, is the Albert, yielding 47 3-20 
pounds for one pound planted ; the next in rank is the 
Economist, jdelding 43 10-22 pounds for one ; the Early 
Goodrich39pounds, and the Harrison 32 13-15 pounds. 
The trial of one summer is not sufficient to determine 
accurately this question of productiveness, for, unaccount- 
able as it may seem, one variety does well one season and 
fails the next, while precisely the reverse may be true of 
another variety. The Early Goodrich did not do itself 
justice the past summer, while the Colebrook Seedling, 
that failed the previous summer, has redeemed its char- 
acter the present season. With us the greatest producers 
for a succession of summers are the Garnet Chili, the 
Harrison, and the Gleason, and these varieties have also 
the great merit of uniform size. The Early Goodrich has 
been a great producer, but, like the Northern Spy apple, 
while there are many large and good, there are also many 
small. 

Other things being equal, we should give preference to 
an early and white potato over the late and red. The 



ADVANTAGES OF AN EARLY CKOP. 231 

early potato is most likely to escape disease and frost, and 
comes into market when prices are high. Almost every 
season we hear some old fogy farmers, who have never 
heard of any other early potato than the Early June, say 
in July, "We do not like early potatoes, they are 
soggy; we prefer old potatoes till the new ones are 
ripe." This means they prefer the old, withered potatoes, 
with the starch dried out of them, to Early Junes, or 
Round Pink Eyes. To cure all such prejudices, it needs 
only a few doses of Sebec or Early Goodrich taken at 
dinner-time. One dose will generally suffice, but a 
week's application is warranted to cure. A dose of the 
Early Rose would perhaps be still more efficacious, but 
the Rose tastes too strong of silver, as yet, to be used as 
medicine. Dr. Holland, of The Springfield Republican^ is 
the only man we know who has had much experience in 
eating the Rose potato, and he commends them highl}-, 
and Avell he may, for in eating two or three barrels he 
unwittingly ate as many hundred dollars. Editors are 
expected to know everything, and we hardly know how to 
excuse the Doctor for his ignorance of the market price 
of the Rose potato. Possibly he was writing his Kath- 
rina while the potatoes were being consumed, and the 
editor was lost in the poet. If the Rose contributed to 
his inspiration, the world gained by his loss of the 
potatoes. 

The prejudice against red potatoes may be a mere preju- 
dice, but it exists, and we must make the best of it, and get 
around it if we can not overcome it. We know no reason 
wh}^ red potatoes should not be as good as white ones ; 
neither do we know any reason why a red man may not be 
as good as a white man ; but we all prefer to be white, 
and we all prefer white potatoes. 



232 DEEP-EYED POTATOES. 

Avoid a deep-eyed potato. There is great waste in 
buying them, as we buy much air if we buy by the bushel. 
This may not be an objection to the producer, but we take 
it for granted all farmers are honest and wish to give a 
fiiir equivalent for value received. If potatoes were sold 
by weight, as they should be, this objection would be ob- 
viated, but still there would be great waste in cooking 
the deep-eyed tubers. Some of the deep-eyed potatoes 
are so good that we can afford to pocket these losses. The 
Garnet Chili is imperfect in this particular, but is too good 
a producer, and too healthy and well-flavored, to be dis- 
carded for this one defect. Moreover, it is the father of 
the Rose, one of the latest wonders in the potato world. 
As we can buy a bushel of Garnets as cheaply as one 
pound of the Rose, we prefer for table use the old block 
to the young chip, though we have no doubt the Rose will 
prove a great accession to the varieties of potatoes, espe- 
cially as it matures a week or ten days earlier than the 
Early Goodrich. 

We should not do justice to this subject of the varieties 
of the potato, did we not pay a tribute to the memory of 
the late Rev. Chauncey E. Goodrich of Utica, N. Y., who 
devoted more time and showed more zeal and skill than 
any other man in propagating the potato. For sixteen 
years he studied this subject most carefully, and he has 
left us a rich legacy in the results of his investigations. 
From some constitutional idiosyncrasy, Mr. Goodrich was 
unable to eat potatoes himself, w^hich fact makes his per- 
severing labors in studying the habits of the plant, and 
originating new varieties, all the more praiseworthy. As 
early as 1846 his attention was called to the potato disease. 
The result of his investigations was the conclusion that 
the causes of the disease were want of vigor in the con- 



EARLY PLANTING. 233 

stitution of the plant, the artificial mode of propagation 
by cuttings instead of the natural mode by seeds, the sud- 
den changes and intensities of our climate, and the char- 
acter of the soil. The constitution of the potato, he con- 
cluded, had thus become impaired, and the product of 
one year transmitted its want of vigor to the next genera- 
tion, each becoming more and more enfeebled. 

In 1848 he imported from South America, the original 
home of the potato, some of the native tubers, and from 
the seed of these began producing new varieties. In all he 
originated some 15,000 seedlings. These he divided into 
seventy-four distinct families. After four or five years'trial 
of the different seedlings, he rejected those whose health, 
yield and habits he did not like. Mr. Goodrich died in the 
midst of his experiments, but not until he had established 
in public favor the Garnet Chili, Early Goodrich, Cuzco, 
Calico, Gleason, and Harrison varieties, which now stand at 
the head of the list with all well-posted cultivators. These 
varieties can be cultivated with the expectation that, under 
ordinary circumstances, they will escape disease and yield 
remunerative crops of excellent quality. They will prob- 
ably degenerate in the course of time, and a reproduction 
from seed of healthy parentage is the only mode of propa- 
gating the potato with the certainty of reproducing a 
healthy variety. 

The Early Goodrich has not done as well the past 
season in some localities as formerly, but we have never 
yet seen a rotten potato of this variety. To insure its 
success, and indeed that of all the early varieties, plant- 
ing must be done early in the season. So far as we can 
learn, those who have failed of producing good crops of 
this variety, have planted late. Early planting produces 
a greater amount of woody fiber and less of soft cellular 



234 VIGOROUS VARIETIES. 

tissue in the vines, as it grows more slowly in the cool 
weather. As a general rule the early planted crops of all 
varieties are more hardy than those planted late. The 
maturity of the crop is driven by late planting into ex- 
treme autumn and unfavorable weather, even should it 
escape the dangers of the hot, sultry days and cool nights 
of August. 

It sometimes happens that extreme warm weather, with 
sudden changes, occurs in June, when the vines of the 
early varieties are in their most succulent state, and the 
tubers are approaching maturity. In this case they may 
become diseased, v/hile the late planted, not much de- 
veloped, escape and yield a healthful and bountiful crop. 
This is, however, the exception, and not the rule. We 
look for the weather that is most trying to the constitu- 
tion of the potato, when the dog star rages, in the latter 
part of July and during August. The engorged state of 
the plant and its soft, vascular tissues, especially when 
grown in rich soil, render it liable to disease when the 
hot, moist days are succeeded by cool nights, or a sudden 
change of the weather checks the flow of sap. The cells 
may burst from an excessive flow, stimulated by heat, 
moisture and nitrogenous manure, or they may collapse 
by the sudden check of the sap by the cold. In either 
case putrifaction ensues. If the potato has great constitu- 
tional vigor, it may resist these changes. The Garnet 
Chili, the Harrison and Gleason seem to possess this vigor, 
and we trust the Rose has it also, but its character is not 
yet fully established. We have the past summer raised 
the Gleason on very rich garden soil, and while other varie- 
ties planted by their side rotted, the Gleasons came out 
sound and in great abundance. 

The potato loves a rich soil, and large crops can be 



LAUGE YIELD. 235 

raised in no other, and one great advantage in planting 
vigorous varieties is, that we can plant them in such a 
soil. For many years after the disease made its appear- 
ance, it was supposed that little if any nitrogenous ma- 
nure could be applied to the potato-patch, as it so greatly 
enhanced the tendency to rot, and we were content to raise 
light crops on poor, light soil. The yield fell off from an 
average of 300 bushels to the acre to less than 100. Since 
new and healthier varieties have been introduced, the yield 
is again on the increase, partly because we find that these 
vigorous kinds can resist the tendency to disease which 
manure induces. The Garnet Chili, one of the earliest, 
introduced by Mr. Goodrich, and one of the most vigorous, 
has evidently lost something of its original constitutional 
power, and in a hot, damp time, decays when planted on 
fresh, unfermented manure. 






s 

^3 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

POTATOES (CONTINUED) : QUALITY OF SOIL, ETC. 

,HE soil best adapted to the potato seems to be 
j^ sandy loam, well drained in case the subsoil is of 
clay. Clay soils, if the season is unfavorable, are 
"^^W^ peculiarly prejudicial to the health of the potato, 
as they envelope the tuber closely and prevent the access 
of air, light and heat. If the surface of the unripe tuber 
is kept constantly wet, as it is apt to be in a wet season 
on clay soil, decay will be likely to ensue, even when 
morbid matter has not been conveyed from the vine to 
the root, which seems to be the usual mode. The inverted 
sod of an old pasture is one of the best soils for potatoes. 
With a little well-rotted compost harrowed in thoroughly 
upon such a sod, to give the plants a good start, we have 
raised good crops upon comparatively poor soil. An old 
pasture contains much vegetable matter, and the tubers de- 
light in the mellow bed which such a soil affords, and come 
out in the fall clean and healthj^ We have also raised 
good potatoes in a mucky soil, apparently having little 
but vegetable matter in it. This can only be done in a 
dry season. In a wet summer the muck retains too much 
water, and has the same influence on the tubers as com- 
pact clay. Leached ashes should always be put in the 
hill with potatoes when planted on muck, to furnish the 
inorganic matter in which muck is deficient. A compost 



SANDY SOILS FOR POTATOES. 237 

made of muck and leached ashes is one of the best possi- 
ble manures for the potato. The muck makes the soil 
porous, and furnishes a bed in which the potato delights 
as much as our mothers formerly did in a feather-bed. 
Sufficient potash is left in the leached ashes to furnish 
this essential ingredient of the potato. 

Sandy soils are often as much too open to atmospheric 
influences as clay soils are closed against them. Sand 
both heats and cools too rapidly, and feels the sudden 
changes of temperature which are so trying to the potato. 
Still, on poor sandy soils good crops of potatoes can be 
raised by the aid of muck and ashes. The perfect drain- 
age and slow growth secure this result. The seed should 
be planted deeply and cultivated on a level, so that the 
tubers may be less affected by the sudden changes of tem- 
perature. We have known potatoes to rot as badly on 
sand as on clay, when planted superficially and hilled up 
in contracted hills. Hilling was formerly universally 
practised, but hills heat and cool more rapidly than a 
level surface, feel the effect of drouth more, and are now 
discarded in light dry soils. It was supposed that the tu- 
bers felt the influence of air more in the hills and had a 
lighter bed in which to expand, but potatoes should not 
be planted anywhere till a good bed is first prepared for 
them. The only good reason for hilling in a dry soil is that 
the potatoes are more easily dug. Diseased tubers will 
generally be found nearest the surface of the ground, and 
if the soil is washed off so as to expose them to the sun 
and air, they are ruined if they do not rot. 

Whatever may be the character of the soil, it should 
be ploAved deeply and thoroughly mellowed by the har- 
row. Deep plowing, deep planting, and frequent stir- 
ring of the soil with the cultivator, will place the crop 



238 USE OF CULTIVATOE. 

be3^ond the contingency of a wet or dry season. If the 
soil is thoroughly drained and pulverized, so as to be light 
and spongy, it will allow the excessive moisture of a wet 
season to pass through it, leaving its enriching qualities 
for the nourishment of the potatoes, and in a dry time, 
will, like Gideon's fleece, absorb the vapor which always 
abounds in the atmosphere. The statement that a deep 
and mellow soil is best adapted to resist the extremes of 
moisture and drouth, may seem to some paradoxical, but 
facts abundantly verify it. 

In case the land is not thoroughly drained, and is of a 
clay nature, inclining to be wet, we prefer broad hills or 
drills to level culture, as the potatoes will be less exposed 
to excessive moisture. Drills will give the greatest 
return, and if the land is sloping, should be made to run 
directly down the slope so as to afford partial drainage. 
We have heard the fear expressed that if drills run with the 
descent of the ground, the land would be liable to wash 
in heavy showers, but this is a mistake. With a furrow 
once in three feet, there can be no great accumulation of 
water in any one furrow. The frequent furrows scatter 
the water, much as Quimby's frequent points on his light- 
ning rods scatter the electricity. Whereas, if the fur- 
rows run obliquely or transversely with the slope, the 
water will accumulate in the furrow till it rises to a suffi- 
cient hight to overcome the barrier of the drill, when it 
makes bad gullies, as the Yankees call the channel made 
by running water. 

If potatoes are planted in drills, three feet apart, and 
the seed dropped at intervals of a foot, the cultivator can 
pretty much supersede the use of the hand-hoe. This 
should be run between the drills as soon as the young 
shoots make their appearance, to keep the ground mellow 



QUALITY AND QUANTITY OF SEED. 239 

and open to atmospheric influences. One hand-hoeing 
may be necessary to eradicate the weeds growing in too 
close proximity to the potatoes to bo exterminated by tho 
cultivator. Otherwise we should never care to put a hoo 
among potatoes. By much waste of human vitality, the 
hoe may be made to pulverize the soil as well as Share's 
cultivator, but we have never seen it done, and should de- 
cidedly object to putting our muscles to such a strain 
when those of a horse can be obtained, and the work be 
better accomplished in a tenth part of the time. When it 
is desired to throw the mellowed soil in ridges, the side 
teeth of the cultivator can be taken out, when the long 
mold-boards of the cultivator will place the soil where it 
is needed. Nor should the cultivation be continued late 
in the season, for a new setting of tubers may be thus 
occasioned, which will be late and small, and will draw 
the nourishment from those set more early. In case the 
potatoes are planted early and the land is rich, as it should 
be, the tops will completely cover the ground by the first 
of July, keeping it shaded and moist, and smothering the 
weeds that may be struggling to live. 

The question whether to plant large or small, cut or 
uncut tubers, has long been a mooted one. We are satis- 
fied, both from our own observation and the testimony of 
others, that medium-sized tubers are better than large or 
small, and that they should always be cut lengthwise, 
leaving three or four eyes in each piece. We have raised 
good crops of potatoes from small tubers, and from small 
pieces with single eyes. The use of such seed for one 
year may produce no marked deterioration, but let this 
plan be continued for a series of years and degeneracy 
will surely follow. It will be found a penny wise and 
pound foolish policy. The use of the tuber is to furnish 



240 QUALITY AND QUANTITY OF SEED. 

nourishment to the young shoot, and if a generous slice 
is planted the shoot comes up strong and healthy, with a 
broad leaf, and grows vigorously, over-topping the weeds. 
If a small piece or only a sprout is planted it starts slowly 
and feebly, and requires much nursing. When the seed of 
some rare variety costs a dollar a pound, the temptation 
is great to plant the sprouts only, and to plant successive 
sprouts from the same eye. This may answer a tempo- 
rary expedient for money-making, but is contrary to the 
law of good seeding. We are confident the practice tends 
to the deterioration of the constitution of the potato. It 
is like stunting an animal in the early stages of its 
growth. Generous feeding afterward may apparently 
compensate for the damage done by the previous parsi- 
mony, still the constitution of the animal has received a 
shock not easily remedied, and will be very apt to show it 
in the next generation. Certainly if the process of half 
starving the young is continued for a succession of gener- 
ations, we may expect a degenerate race of animals. 

We know there is some hazard in drawing analogies be- 
tween vegetable and animal pathology, but the causes of 
disease arising from poor nutrition, original want of con- 
stitutional vigor, and the changes of the weather, are 
much the same in vegetables and animals, and we are con- 
fident that one of the causes of degeneracy in the po- 
tato is the want of proper nourishment when only the 
sprouts or small pieces are planted. In these cases, in- 
variably, the sprout is small, grows slowly at first, and 
the first leaves are small and shriveled, and if the weather 
is unfavorable, many of the sprouts die. 

We know an experiment of this sort made the past sum- 
mer with the Rose potato, in which three successive 
generations of sprouts from the same eyes were planted, 



LARGEST TUBERS NOT PROFITABLE. 241 

the first in April and the two succeeding in May, and 
finally the tuber itself was cut up and planted. The 
sprouts were feeble, and many of them died, but by good 
cultivation yielded bountifully over one hundred fold. 
The gain of one year will, however, be more than bal- 
anced by the loss of constitution in the potato. In fact we 
fear the character of the Rose potato has already been 
injured by this excessive lust of gain, prompting to this 
injudicious mode of propagation. We know of some in- 
stances in which the Rose has rotted badly the past sum- 
mer, whereas such a new and thorough-bred seedling, 
coming, as it does, directly from the Garnet Chili, one of 
the healthiest of Mr. Goodrich's varieties, and boasting 
of a descent from a Peruvian ancestry, should not rot un- 
der the most unfavorable circumstances. The objection 
to planting whole potatoes is, that we get too many stems 
together. It is like planting six or eight kernels of corn 
in one hill. There is not room for proper develop- 
ment of the seed. Such thick growth may answer for a 
forage crop, but when the object is seed or roots, the 
ground must not be overstocked. Three or four stems in 
a hill are better than more. 

As large potatoes will manifestly furnish more nourish- 
ment to the young shoot, it may be asked why not plant 
the largest, and thus get a vigorous start? The objection 
to these large potatoes for seed is that their tendency is 
to reproduce large, overgrown, hollow-hearted tubers of 
coarser texture and flavor than the medium-sized. This 
was the objection to the Garnet Chilis on their first intro- 
duction. They were too large, often hollow, and not a 
first quality table potato till late in the spring. Subse- 
quent cultivation from small tubers has greatly improved 
them in this respect, though at the expense of constitu- 
11 



242 CUTTING THE SEED. 

tioiml vigor. Such were the health and vigor of this 
variety on its first introduction into Massachusetts, some 
eight or ten years since, that we have seen some of the 
large specimens of the previous year's growth, cracking 
open in the cellar during the summer, and exposing from 
twelve to twenty young tubers of the size of marbles, 
that had grown to this size fed only by the air and the 
parent tuber. We have never seen a similar instance in 
any other variety. This may seem to some a fish story, 
but we are prepared to vouch for it. 

The object in cutting the potato lengthwise is to secure 
the vitality of the seed end, and at the same time the 
nourishment of the butt end. It has been observed that 
the eyes, or buds, at the seed end start with more vigor 
than do the others, and hence some economical house- 
wives have been in the habit of cutting off this end for 
seed, while preparing potatoes for the table during the 
winter. The practice lies open to the same objection as 
the planting of sprouts. There is not sufficient nourish- 
ment furnished the young plant from the potato itself. 
In the eye end there is concentrated more starch and 
more vitality, just as there is more sugar and more fla- 
vor in the bud end of the apple than in the stem end ; 
but if we cut the potato crosswise, we lose the support 
which the butt end is designed to give to the eyes. We 
have found it an excellent plan, when cutting potatoes 
for seed, to put them into a barrel and sprinkle upon them 
a quart or two of plaster. If the barrel is well-shaken, 
the plaster will fasten upon each fresh-cut surface, absorb 
the moisture and prevent the ingress of air, so that the 
seed will be less likely to rot after being planted, and the 
plaster will also aid in furnishing nourishment to the 
young plant. 



TIME OF DIGGING. 243 

We often hear it recommended to change the locahty of 
the seed yearly, and seed brought from the North is gen- 
erally thought to do better than that from the South, 
while others maintain that it makes no difference where 
the seed comes from provided only that it be changed. We 
have no doubt there is such a thing as acclimating a veg- 
etable as well as an animal. The climate, soil and sea- 
sons stamp themselves on the vegetation grown there, and 
we can readily see that a potato brought from the North 
will ripen in a given latitude at an earlier day than one 
brought from the South and accustomed to a longer pe- 
riod for maturing. Facts seem to favor this change of 
seed, and facts are stubborn things. The subject needs 
further investigation. 

The time of digging must depend upon circumstances. 
If the crop is designed for Avinter and spring use, and the 
soil is dry, we should prefer to let the potatoes lie in the 
ground till the weather is cool enough to allow them to be 
immediately stored in the cellar. But if the soil is moist, 
and the crop shows a tendency to rot, it should be dug as 
soon as mature, and placed on some dry knoll, scattering 
wdth every half dozen bushels a quart of fresh slaked 
lime. Over the pile the potato vines may be thrown, and 
over the whole a few inches of dry soil, in a conical form, 
making a pit much like the charcoal pit. The lime 
checks the tendency to rot, and we have never known po- 
tatoes, thus treated, to fail of keeping well. Some rec- 
ommend charcoal dust, instead of lime, and we presume it 
is useful, as it is an antiseptic ; but we cannot recommend 
it from personal experience. When the weather becomes 
cool, the potatoes can be removed to the cellar or taken 
to market. 

By all means dig in dry weather, and store the potatoes 



244 STORING OF POTATOES. 

away as dry as possible, but with little exposure to the 
sun. The skin of the potato is of a corky nature, imper- 
vious to water, and designed to keep external moisture 
from the the potato and the internal moisture from evap- 
oration, and if too long exposed to wet will sometimes rot, 
when the tuber must perish. A well-ripened potato, put 
up dry in the fall, will lose little weight during the win- 
ter, its skin preventing evaporation as effectually as does 
the tight cork of a bottle. In the warm weather of sum- 
mer the starch is converted into sugar, and slowly evap- 
orates through the pores of the skin. 

All cutting and bruising of potatoes must be carefully 
avoided. They must be treated as things of life, and not 
like the stones, which can be tossed about without sensa- 
tion. Every cut and every bruise increases the tendency 
to decay. The potato may not be quite as sensitive as the 
apple, and may stand more hard thwacks, but still every 
bruise breaks the cellular tissue and puts the vitality of 
the tuber to a hard test. The digging must not be en- 
trusted to careless boys, or the potatoes will look sadly 
hacked. We have never seen any instrument for digging 
that will compare with an Irishman's shovel. Making a 
fulcrum of his knee, the Irishman runs his shovel under 
a hill and lifts potatoes and dirt together, carefully pick- 
ing out and placing the tubers in the rear and scattering 
the soil about evenly, so that when the potatoes are har- 
vested, the field looks as though it was prepared for a 
crop of wheat. Such a mode of digging is almost as 
good for the land as a thorough spading. 

Potatoes that are by constitution and culture healthy, 
can be stored in large bins, provided the cellar is not too 
damp nor too warm. We are blessed with a dry cellar, 
situated on a gravel knoll, and have never known a po- 



OKIGIXATING NEW VARIETIES. 245 

tato, put into tlie cellar in good condition, to rot after it 
was stored away. The windows should, however, be left 
open as late in autumn as the frost will permit, and the 
temperature kept as near to the freezing-point as possible 
without exposing the vegetables to freezing. Every cel- 
lar should also be provided with a ventilator, running to 
the roof of the house, so that should any of the potatoes 
rot, the malaria may not poison the household. A simple 
hole in the chimney makes the best ventilation possible, 
as the hot air makes a strong draft, and the current will 
be forced from the first floor into the cellar and thence 
up the chimney, provided there is no more direct access 
to this great and best ventilator of the house. 

In case the potatoes are wet by a sudden shower before 
being housed, or from any cause they are wet Avhen put 
into the bin, it will always be safer to put a little air- 
slacked lime with them as they are stored away. A little 
dry dirt upon them does no damage, provided always it is 
sufficiently dry. A washed potato never keeps as well 
as one that is put directly from the ground into the cellar. 
Washing seems to remove a part of the integument which 
nature has provided to guard against the entrance of 
moisture and air to the flesh of the potato. We often hear 
thin-skinned potatoes praised, but they are apt to be of a 
delicate constitution, and consequently more liable to 
disease, so that, as Virgil says of the farm, " Praise a large 
farm, but cultivate a small one," we say, praise a thin- 
skinned potato, but plant those of a thick cuticle. As the 
potato is often kept six or eight months before finding 
a market, it needs a thick covering to protect its virtues 
from evaporating. 

With all the care possible exercised in cultivating the 
potato, the varieties seem to decline with age. None of 



246 EXPERIMENTS IN PEOPAGATION. 

the old standard varieties can now be relied upon with 
certainty. The Carter, the Mercer, the Peachblow, 
may, in a favorable season and circumstances, yield a 
remunerative crop, but the chances in most parts of New 
England are against them. On the sandy soil of Cape 
Cod, where climate is so much modified by the sea breeze, 
with the ocean in close proximity on either side, we are 
told the potato disease is scarcely known. If so, the Cape 
can be put to no better use than growing potatoes. With 
muck or sea-weed mixed with the sand, no better soil or 
climate can be desired for the growth of this esculent. 
But those of us who live in the interior, especially those 
who cultivate clay lands, must look for new and healthy 
varieties. Would that the mantle of Rev. Chauncey E. 
Goodrich might fall on some worthy successor, and that 
his investigations might be carried on with all the nice 
accuracy and close observation which he exercised. The 
loss from the potato disease in England has been estimated 
some years as high as $50,000,000. In this country it has 
never been as great, but here it has caused serious alarm, 
lest this most valuable esculent should be entirely lost 
from among our vegetable productions. 

This extreme anxiety has abated with further knowl- 
edge of the disease, and we feel confident that the potato, 
by more skillful culture and especially by the introduc- 
tion of more hardy varieties, is destined to continue one 
of the leading crops of the country. In order to insure 
this, more attention must be paid to originating new va- 
rieties from seed. No tyro can do this successfully. 
There is such a thing as a thorough-bred vegetable, as 
well as a thorough-bred animal, and the principles of veg- 
etable physiology are nearly as intricate as those of the 
animal economy. The balls for seed must be taken from 



EXPERIMENTS IN PEOPAGATION. 247 

vines whose tubers are known to be hardy, well-shaped, 
early ripened and largely productive, and with all care 
taken in the selection of seed, the cultivator will find that 
the x^otato sports into many varieties, much like our com- 
mon fruits. The seed must be sow^n in the spring in a 
hot-bed, and when the season is sufficiently advanced the 
plants can be transferred to the garden or field. In the 
autumn the most promising varieties can be selected for 
further trial, and experience proves that the most hopeful 
at the end of one season often prove worthless in the. 
course of further experiment. 

It is only after four or five years' cultivation that the 
character of the new seedlings can be well ascertained, 
and when it is well established in the mind of the culti- 
vator, the public are slow to believe it, so that the repu- 
tation of the potato is a work of many years ; unless, 
like the Rose, it falls into the hands of speculators who 
blazon its merits for the sake of gain. After the labor of 
cultivating many thousands of varieties, Mr. Goodrich 
found only ten or a dozen in all respects worthy of gen- 
eral cultivation. No highly valuable seedlings were pro- 
duced from old and diseased varieties. In the Garnet 
Chili, Early Goodrich, Gleason, Harrison and Rose, we 
have bases for still further improvement and every en- 
couragement to hope for success. Mr. Goodrich has left 
us a rich legacy in these potatoes, and more particularly 
in the minute details of his experience, which he commu- 
nicated to the public in the transactions of the New York 
State Agricultural Society for 1863. 

We hope to see these experiments continued by some 
equally disinterested, indefatigable and skillful laborer in 
this department. Our agricultural college can do the 
state no better service than by originating good healthy 



248 EXPERIMENTS IN PROPAGATION. 

and productive varieties of this esculent. With potatoes 
at $1.00 per bushel, as they now are in the retail markets, 
they would be an expensive luxury did not custom make 
them an indispensable necessity. So far as mere nutri- 
tion is concerned a poor man, at present prices, can much 
better afford to buy flour for his family than potatoes. If 
by the introduction of new and healthy varieties and an 
improved mode of cultivation, the average yield per acre 
can be raised again to three hundred bushels, then the 
farmer can better afford to sell potatoes at fifty cents than 
he now can for one dollar. We commend this subject to 
the attention of the board of agriculture, to the trustees 
of the agricultural college, to the farming community 
generally, and to all who own a potato patch. 



NOTE. 

With regard to the varieties of potatoes, we desire to record the 
results of further experience since the above lecture was written. 
The Early Rose fully maintains its character, both for early maturity 
aud good quality. Probably no potato is more widely disseminated 
or gives such general satisfaction. The Harrison proves very pro- 
ductive, but the quality can not be said to be first rate. Still we 
consider it a great acquisition. It yields on good ground 400 bush- 
els to the acre, and for late use is a good table variety. The Glea- 
son is also very productive and very good. The Garnet Chili proves 
to be the most hardy of all Mr. Goodrich's seedlings, and is also 
productive and of good quality. Mr. Albert Bresee of Hubbard- 
town, Vt., who originated the Early Rose, has continued his experi- 
ments in producing new varieties and has been very successful. 
From the seed of the Garnet Chili he has secured, besides the Early 
Rose, the King of the Earlies, the Prolific, and the Peerless, all good 
varieties. The Early Mohawk, originated in Michigan, in 1866, 
from that old standard variety, the Peachblow, bids fair to do 
honor to its parentage. We must, however, caution our readers 
against too large investments in new varieties. The success of the 
Early Rose has given a great stimulus to the production of seed- 
lings, and it is just as easy for potatoes as for men to acquire a pa- 
per reputation, but character is not so easily established. This 
comes only after fair trial, and until trial is made it is not worth 
while to buy potatoes at a dollar per pound. 



11* 



LEOTUEE NINTH. 




CHAPTER XXIX. 

THE CORN CROP. 

|HE word corn is of Saxon origin and signifies all 
P kinds of grain, as wheat, rye, oats, barley, etc. The 
ll word is, however, modified by the usage of differ- 
ent nations. When the Englishman speaks of his 
corn crop he means wheat, the Scotchman applies the 
term principally to oats, and in the United States we re- 
strict its use almost exclusively to the leading grain of 
the country, which is maize, commonly called Indian corn, 
as it was the grain which the original settlers of the coun- 
try found cultivated by the Indians. Botanists class corn 
among the grasses and give it the name of zea mays. 
Zea is a Greek word signifying life, and is applied to corn 
because of the great amount of nutritive matter which 
this grain contains. Maize in the Gaelic signifies food, 
and in the Livonic language in the north of Europe 
mayse is bread. Zea mays is, therefore, a very appropri- 
ate name for the grain which furnishes more breadstuff 
for man and more food for cattle than any other. 

From the returns of the industry of Massachusetts for 
1865, we learn that the number of acres under cultiva- 



DECREASE IN THE EASTEKN CORN CROP. 251 

tion Avith Indian corn in this State, that year, was 67,588, 
and the number of bushels produced was 1,986,685, val- 
ued at $2,905,357. In 1855 the number of acres was 
91,056, and the product 2,659,875 bushels, showing a de- 
crease in the number of acres planted in these ten years of 
23,468, and a decrease of production of 673,190 bushels. 
This is not because the farmers of Massachusetts love 
corn less, but because they love tobacco more. 

The decrease of corn is also owing to the increased at- 
tention j)aid to the cultivation of grass, potatoes and 
roots, and in the neighborhood of cities and large manu- 
facturing places to the increased area devoted to market 
gardening. Some have even argued that corn can no 
longer be raised Avith j^rofit in New England, and that it 
is better economy for eastern farmers to obtain their sup- 
plies of this grain from the fertile prairies, and to devote- 
our lands to more bulky products which can not be so 
easily transported, and which our markets more impera- 
tively demand. 

While we concede that there is some foundation for this 
view of the case, and that it is difficult to figure up large 
profits from an ordinary yield of corn in the East, still we 
should be very unwilling to see this leading staple of the 
country reduced to an inferior rank in the Eastern States. 
While it may not be profitable for the farmer to raise as 
an article for sale, as was formerly the case, still the forage 
is so excellent, and the grain raised in New England so 
superior to that brought from the West and South, and 
as its cultivation leaves the land in such excellent heart 
for succeeding crops, we contend that every farmer who 
has land adapted to this cereal should raise as much of it 
as may be needed for consumption in his own family and 
by his own stock. It will be found very ha^ndy to have 



252 ADAPTATION OF CLIMATE. 

around at all times of the year, and we should hardly 
know how to manage a farm Avithout a crop of corn tak- 
ing its place in the accustomed rotation. 

Nor is our climate so poorly adapted to this cereal as 
some have imagined. It is one of the provisions of a kind 
Providence, that this most useful of all grains should have 
a wide range of latitude in which to grow, extending from 
the equator to fifty-one degrees on the north, and probably 
as far south, so that, making allowance for the high eleva- 
tions within this range where it can not be grown, we are 
safe in saying that on most parts of the earth, where men 
do mostly congregate, corn can be raised in sufficient quan- 
tities for their support, and, what is contrary to the gen- 
erally received opinion, the maximum production is nearer 
its northern than its southern limit. 

Our western friends, whose boys can not be seen as they 
ride their horses in cultivating their corn-fields, can hardly 
be persuaded that our diminutive stalks can produce any 
grain; still the census of the United States shows that 
Vermont produces more corn on the average to the acre 
than any State in the Union, and the largest authenticated 
product from a single acre so far as we can learn, Massa- 
chusetts has the honor of having produced ; so that we 
do not feel prepared quite yet for giving up corn as one 
of the leading staples of New England. 

It does, indeed, require high manuring and much labor, 
and with a yield of forty or fifty bushels per acre it may 
only pay the expense of cultivation ; but with one hundred 
bushels from an acre, which w^e can obtain with proper skill, 
there is a handsome profit. The statements of farmers 
differ widely in their estimates of the profits of corn, some 
making them large, others small, and others still showing 
a balance between the expenses and gains on the wrong 



PREMIUM CROPS. 253 

side of the account ; still the fact that very few farmers 
are willing to give up the raising of this cereal, and that 
most still cling to it as the leading hoed crop, proves that 
it stands high in public estimation. 

As proof that the corn crop has not run out in Massa- 
chusetts, we desire to give the following statements : In 
the report of the Martha's Vineyard Agricultural Society 
for 1868, we find the award of the three following premi- 
ums on corn : first premium to Joseph Sylvia for 110 1-2 
bushels per acre ; second premium to John Davis for 
109 1-4 bushels per acre; third premium to George D. 
Cottle for 108 1-2 bushels per acre. Mr. Sylvia's state- 
ment is as follows: "Soil, sandy loam. Crop in 1866-7, 
nothing. Manured with 40 loads of 30 bushels each to 
the acre ; value of manure, 820 ; cost of labor per acre, 
$14; value of fodder $18. I have a field of five acres 
on which I put 200 loads of compost made from sea-weed 
and barn-yard manure, with five loads of night-soil. From 
one acre I harvested 110 1-2 bushels shelled corn. The 
land I bought last spring for $10 per acre well fenced." 

Mr. Sylvia has the great advantage of sea-weed, which 
reduces the cost of his manure to the minimum of $20 per 
acre ; but as an offset to this he has a barren sand to cul- 
tivate, and raises 110 1-2 bushels of corn, the value of 
which must have been $1.25 per bushel, giving, with the 
straw, the gross receipts from one acre of $1 56^ and de- 
ducting the cost of cultivation ($34), a net receipt of $122. 

This is doubtless an extraordinary jdeld under very fa- 
vorable circumstances, but his competitors are only one or 
two bushels behind him. From the report of the Nan- 
tucket Society for 1868, we learn that Dr. Augustus 
Franklin, of that island, raised 73 1-2 bushels of shelled 
corn from an acre, which he valued at $95.55. Adding 



254 EARLY HISTORY OF COEN. 

two tons of stalks, valued at $20, his gross receipts were 
$115.55, and deducting expenses ($69.20) the profits were 
$46.35. In the same report we notice our friend James 
Thompson makes the profit of his acre of corn, grown on 
the Nantucket sands, as $24.25. If these things can be 
done in the dry sands of Martha's Vineyard and Nan- 
tucket, what can not be done in the green fields of the 
Connecticut and Housatonic valleys ? 

A full history of this important cereal has never been 
written. The impression prevails, generally, that the 
plant is of American origin, and is the greatest vegetable 
contribution that the New World has made to the Old. 
We have no doubt this impression is correct ; still many 
naturalists contend that maize is of eastern origin. Bach; 
the first botanist who wrote of it, forty years after the dis- 
covery of America, asserts that it came from Arabia, and 
was called wheat of Asia. Fuchsius also declares that it 
came from Asia to Greece, thence to Germany, and was 
called wheat of Turkey. Much stress is also laid by the 
advocates of its eastern origin on the chart of Incisa of 
the thirteenth century. This chart describes a grain of 
a golden color and partly white under the name of meliza. 
Crescenzio describes the method of cultivating this grain, 
which is very similar to the mode now practised in culti- 
vating maize. 

The learned author of the "Flore d' Egypte," pub- 
lished by the order of Napoleon, says the description of 
the meliza of the East corresponds to maize, but that it 
can be equally well applied to the millet of India, the 
grains of some varieties resembling corn and varying 
from yellow to white. Some kernels of corn are also said 
to have been found in the sarcophagus of a mummy in 
Thebes, in 1819. If this is true, we can more easily be- 



CULTIVATED BY AMERICAN INDIANS. 255 

lieve that they were dropped there accidentally or roguish- 
ly, than to believe that they had lain there for two thou- 
sand years unmolested, especially when we consider that 
no picture or minute description of this grain has come 
down to us from Egypt, Greece or Rome. Herodotus 
does indeed speak of a species of wheat grown in Baby- 
lonia, the leaves of which were three or four inches in di- 
ameter and the return two to three hundred fold. This 
comes the nearest to a description of the growth of Indian 
corn of any old record, but still the description will answer 
for sorghum or millet, as well as for corn, and it is more 
reasonable to. suppose that sorghum or millet was the 
"wheat" that Herodotus intended to describe. 

A Chinese writer of the middle of the sixteenth century 
describes a maize grown in China which corresponds with 
our Indian corn ; but this was a hundred and fifty years 
after the discovery of America, and very possibly some of 
our native grain may have found its way to China in that 
time. 

Notwithstanding the many authorities in favor of the 
oriental origin of maize, we have little faith in the theory ; 
but whether it was known or not in Asia before the dis- 
covery of America, there is and can be no question that 
the Spaniards found it growing in this western world on 
their first arrival, and there is abundant evidence to prove 
that it was cultivated in America and formed the leading 
article of food centuries before Columbus landed on these 
shores. Ercilla, Torquemada and others, tell us that 
among other wonders the Spaniards found on their first 
setting foot on American soil, was a gigantic wheat with 
long stalks, called maize. The harvesting of it was cele- 
brated with religious festivals, and it constituted the chief 
vegetable food of all the native inhabitants. It was es- 



256 OPINION OF BAKON HUMBOLDT. 

teemed by the Indians as more valuable than gold, and 
indeed in many cases constituted the medium of exchange, 
instead of the precious metals. A theft of seven ears of 
corn the Mexicans punished with death. They offered 
the first fruits of their corn to their goddess Centl, and 
the Mexican name of the plant signified " She who feeds 
us." 

The Incas of Peru annually held a corn feast in the 
month of May, on an island in Lake Titicaca. One of 
the earliest of the Peruvian historians says the palace 
gardens of the Incas were ornamented with maize in gold 
and silver, with all the grains, stalks, spikes and leaves, 
and in one instance a representation was made in gold and 
silver of an entire corn field of considerable size, giving 
the maize in its erect, growing state, and life size, a proof 
both of the wealth of the Incas and their respect for the 
native grain of the country. In the old ruins of Central 
America are found paintings and statuary ornaments of 
maize, and it seems reasonable to suppose that similar 
remains would have been found in the temples of the Old 
World, had this valuable grain been known to the old 
Syrians, Egyptians and Greeks. 

We have quoted the authority of some naturalists in 
favor of the oriental origin of maize, and it is but right 
that we should give the testimony of the learned Baron 
Humboldt on the other side of this question. He says : 
"It is no longer doubted among botanists that maize is a 
true American grain, and that the old continent received 
it from the new. On the discovery of America by the 
Europeans, the zea maize was cultivated from the most 
southern part of Chili to Pennsylvania," (Maine he should 
have said). "According to the tradition of the Aztecs, 
the Toltecs, in the seventh century of our era, were the 



NOTES FEOM THE PILGRIMS' JOUKNAL. 257 

first who introduced into Mexico the cultivation of maize, 
cotton and pimento. It might happen, however, that 
these different branches of agriculture existed before the 
Toltees, and that this nation, the great civilization of 
which has been celebrated by historians, merely extended 
them successfully." 

I will only quote a few words additional on this point 
from the journal of the Plymouth Pilgrims, respecting the 
first discovery of corn in Massachusetts in 1620. After 
giving an account of the first sight of land, and anchor- 
ing in the bay of Cape Cod upon the 11th of November, 
and of the signing of that famous compact which formed 
the Puritans into a body politic, an event styled by Ban- 
croft " the birth of constitutional liberty in the world," 
the journal relates the adventures of the first explorers 
on Massachusetts soil, who landed upon the 15th of the 
month, and found the stubble from which the Indians had 
gathered the corn. Further on they came to where an 
house had been and four or five planks were lying to- 
gether. "Also (the writer says) we found a great kettle 
which had been left by some ship. Here was a heap of 
sand newly made. This we digged up and in it we found 
a little old basket full of Indian corn, and digging further 
we found a great new basket full of very fair ears of corn, 
some yellow, some red, and others mixed with blue, which 
was a goodly sight. The basket held about three or four 
bushels, and was very handsomely and curiously made. 
After much consultation we concluded to take the ket- 
tle and as much of the corn as we could carry with us ; 
and when our shallop came, if we could find any of the 
people and come to parley with them, we would give 
them the kettle and satisfy them for the corn. So we 
took all the ears and put a good deal of the loose corn in 



258 CULTURE IN EUROPE AND UNITED STATES. 

the kettle for two men to bring away. Besides, they that 
conld put any in their pockets, filled the same, and the 
rest we buried." 

This discovery and a subsequent one of ten bushels more, 
furnished the Pilgrims with seed for their first year's crop. 
The Indians afterward treated the Puritans at Nemasket 
(now Middleborough) with bread, called mazium, made 
from corn, and taught them how to pound the grain in 
mortars and make it into samp. 

It is worthy of notice, in connection with this question 
of the original home of corn, that immediately on its in- 
troduction into Europe from America, its cultivation 
spread with astonishing rapidity where the climate was 
suitable for it. Unfortunately for England, her moist 
atmosphere and cloudy skies did not furnish sufficient 
sunshine and heat for the maturing of this most valuable 
grain. Had it been otherwise, who can tell what would 
have been its effect in revolutionizing British husbandry? 
We are confident of one thing, that had the climate of 
England favored the cultivation of corn as it does the 
turnip, the latter would never have attained its present 
relative importance. In France, Spain, Germany, Russia 
and Turkey corn immediatly commended itself for general 
cultivation. Why so useful a grain was not introduced 
into Eur9pe before, and why it spread so rapidly when 
introduced from America, are questions which the advo- 
cates of an oriental origin for this cereal find it dilSicult to 
answer. France now produces from forty to fifty millions 
of bushels of corn annually, and Russia from twenty to 
thirty millions, and everywhere its cultivation is on the 
increase, except in some few restricted localities where 
other crops are found more profitable. 

The increased production and consumption of this grain 



."aiA 



CTJLTUEE IN EUROPE AND UNITED STATES. 259 

in the United States run up into such large figures as al- 
most to be beyond comprehension. The estimate of Mr. 
Capron, our commissioner of agriculture, makes the prod- 
uct for the year 1868, 905,178,000 bushels, an increase 
of 137,000,000 bushels over the year 1867. This estimate 
does not include the Territories nor the Pacific States. 
In the latter, the climate unfortunately is not favorable 
for the production of this cereal, and it is considered of 
secondary importance. Only a few thousand bushels 
are annually produced in California, and the production 
of Oregon is still less. Illinois is the banner State for 
corn, yielding last year 134,363,000 bushels, about one- 
seventh of the entire production. Ohio formerly led the 
van in producing corn, but the march of the empire of this 
cereal is westward, and Illinois must look well to her 
laurels, or her younger sister Iowa will ere long bear the 
palm, as her production last year amounted to 65,332,000 
bushels. 

Notwithstanding this immense production, there is no 
danger of the market ever being overstocked. Corn has 
this great advantage over other cereals that are mainly 
raised as breadstufPs, that what man does not need, the 
stock will consume. The amount raised in the country is 
tenfold more than is necessary to furnish the entire pop- 
ulation with breadstuffs, still the demand does not dimin- 
ish, and the price on the prairies, owing to the increased 
facilities for transportation, has increased with the in- 
creased production. Railroads have almost annihilated 
distance, and brought producers and consumers within 
hail of each other, though thousands of miles apart. 

A Massachusetts capitalist, a few years since, owning a 
farm in Illinois, upon which he had a tenant, was asked - 
by the tenant what he should do with the corn, as he 



260 LAEGE CEOPS AXD POOR PEICES. 

could only get an offer of twelve cents per bushel. He 
was told to make some rail cribs and stack it until a better 
market should offer. The better time not coming, the 
tenant finally wrote that, as the hogs were breaking into 
the cribs and the corn was diminishing, he should advise 
taking it to a market town on the river, where corn was 
commanding fifteen cents ; but upon inquiry the capitalist 
found that the transportation would cost about all the 
crop would bring, and he wrote to his tenant to dispose 
of it in any manner he pleased, with this proviso, that the 
transportation should not cost more than what was real- 
ized from the sale. Those days of low prices and high 
freights have happily passed away never to return. 

The great proportion of the corn raised in this country 
is converted into beef and pork before it is transported, 
and if Professor Gamgee's method of preserving fresh 
meat by sulphurous oxide gas shall prove a success, so 
that cattle can be slaughtered in Texas, Kentucky, and 
Illinois, and the carcasses can be transported to the East 
without the offal, and with no danger from putrefactive 
decay, corn must still further appreciate at the West, and 
at the same time beef-steaks, spare-ribs and mutton-chops 
come more readily within the reach of the consumers at 
the East. 




1. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

NATURE AND USES OF CORN. 

]F all the grains used in fattening animals, corn 
stands at the head. Chemical analysis and the 
practical results of the best feeders agree in this. 
The chief peculiarity in its composition is that it 
contains more oil than any of the common grains. The 
analyses of corn by different chemists vary somewhat, and 
the grain itself doubtless varies in its composition, the 
properties slightly changing with different varieties, dif- 
ferent climates, and different soils and modes of culture. 
Johnston, in his Chemistry of Common Life, gives the 
following as his analysis of Indian meal : Water 14, gluten 
12, fat 8, starch, etc., 66. He makes four times as much 
oil in corn meal as in fine wheat flour, and two per cent, 
more gluten, or muscle-forming principle. In unbolted 
wheaten flour, the gluten is more abundant than in corn 
meal. The large proportion of fatty matter in the latter 
not only adapts it for fattening mature animals, but makes 
it more grateful to the alimentary canal, and, therefore, 
more wholesome. 

It will be observed that the per cent, of starch in corn 
is very large. Some chemists give even a larger per cent, 
than Johnston, making it sometimes as high as 80, or four- 
fifths of the weight of kiln-dried corn. This large quan- 
tity of starch does not detract from the fattening property 



262 FATTENLN^G QUALITIES OF COEK. 

of corn, but ratlier adds to it, as starch is fat-forming 
rather than a muscle-forming principle, and its chemical 
composition is precisely identical Avith sugar, woody fiber 
and gum, each consisting of carbon 12 atoms, hydrogen 
10, and oxygen 10. These substances are transformed by 
a mysterious process into each other in the growing plant, 
so that what is starch to-day, becomes sugar to-morrow, 
and woody fiber the next day. Fat or oil is also identical 
with starch and sugar in its chemical composition, and 
herbivorous animals must derive their fat in part at least 
from these substances. 

There can be no question, however, but that animals 
fatten more quickly when fed upon food that abounds in 
oil ready for immediate assimilation. All practical farm- 
ers know that cattle fatten most readily upon oil-cake, 
swine upon beech-nuts, and poultry upon meal and suet. 
The conversion of starch or sug^ar into fat in the animal 
implies a chemical change, though a very slight one, which 
imposes upon the vital principle a greater amount of labor 
than by the simple appropriation of the fat which exists 
ready formed in the food. The vegetable thus ministers 
to the animal, and lessens its labor by preparing before- 
hand the materials out of which the animal is to build up 
the fatty parts of its body. When the food does not con- 
tain a sufficient quantity of ready-made fat to enable the 
animal to perform comfortably its various functions, then 
it has the power to form an additional quantity from the 
starch or sugar it eats, but with some loss of vital energy. 
Thus the honey-bee makes wax, a kind of fat, when fed 
on sugar alone. All animals must have this mysterious 
power of transforming sugar, gum, sta,rch, and in extreme 
necessity, even woody fiber, into a lubricating material for 
their bodies. 



MUSCLE-MAKING QUALITIES. 263 

Now corn, as we have seen, contains 8 per cent, of its 
weight of oil ready formed for assimilation by the animal, 
and of starch, sugar and gum that can be converted into 
fat, QQ per cent., in all 74 per cent, of fat-forming' princi- 
ples. Its 12 per cent, of gluten renders it also a good food 
for producing muscle, though in this respect it is inferior 
to oats, which contain 18 per cent. Oats should, therefore, 
be fed to young, growing stock when the object is to de- 
velop muscle, but when we wish to put on fat, corn is the 
grain. Many of the seeds, as flax and cotton, may be 
richer in oil than corn, and are, therefore, more fattening ; 
but of the class of seeds that we call grain, corn stands pre- 
eminent in feeding, and especially in fattening properties. 

It is worth while to notice that science and skillful prac- 
tice agree in the value and uses of corn, and indeed are 
seldom at variance in the more important economies of 
life. The groom, who, perhaps, has never seen or heard 
of an analysis of corn and oats, prefers the latter to feed 
to his fleet horse, because, as he says, they furnish more 
muscle. But when the horse is to be fattened or used only 
on slow draft, then corn is preferred to oats. The observ- 
ing farmer, though he may not know the use of gluten in 
the grain, prefers oats for his young stock and corn for his 
stall-fed cattle. He may not be able to give the reason 
of his preference, but such is the result of his observation. 
The Irishman, who goes on to the mountain of a cold 
winter's day to chop wood, selects his food with as much 
discrimination as science could do it for him. He desires 
cabbage and pork, not because he knows the cabbage con- 
tains nitrogen and the pork carbon, but his nature craves 
these articles to supply the demand for muscular strength 
and animal heat. On the same principle, the Englishman 
at work in his hay-field chooses for his food bread and 
cheese, and science can make no better choice for him. 



264 DANGER OF OVER-FEEDING. 

Corn, however, not only contains starch and oil, fitting 
it for fattening purposes, but it also contains a large per 
cent, of nitrogenous substances, variously named albumen, 
casein and gluten, which make muscle, and therefore ren- 
der it good food for growing stock and working horses 
and cattle. The amount of this muscle-forming property 
varies with the different varieties of corn. Johnston, as 
we have seen, made it 12 per cent. In the hard, flinty, 
yellow corn of New England there are from 13 to 14 per 
cent., while the Sioux variety contains 16 per cent. As 
the fattening property is, however, the leading character- 
istic of this grain, it must be fed to young animals with 
discrimination. The abundance of oil in corn makes it 
of a laxative nature, and care must be exercised lest much 
of the food pass through the animal imperfectly digested, 
and when fed injudiciously the great heating tendency of 
corn meal may produce fever and permanent disease of the 
viscera. 

Many also confound fat with muscle, and the purposes 
which these serve in the animal economy. Much corn and 
other food is therefore injudiciously used from ignorance, 
not only of its composition, but of the effect produced on 
the animal. Fat gives no working power. An excess of 
it is a great impediment to locomotion. Its first purpose 
seems to be to lubricate the animal machinery, enabling 
the joints and muscles to play freely without friction with 
each other, and less danger from external injury. In res- 
piration a portion of the fat is converted into carbonic 
acid and passes off into the air. When severe exercise is 
taken, the fat passes off rapidly through the lungs, so that 
very few animals in a state of nature, being constantly on 
the move in search of food, have much accumulation of 
fat. In a domesticated state they are more quiet, and, 



MINERAL COMPONENTS. 265 

with an abundance of fat-forming food, the lubricating 
and heat-forming material becomes in excess of the wants 
of the body, and is shown in the roundness and plump- 
ness of the parts. This is by no means an index of health, 
as many suppose, but rather indicates an abnormal condi- 
tion and a tendency to disease. 

For this reason we should not advise excessive feeding 
of young animals with corn. We do not desire these ani- 
mals to be fat, only to be in good growing condition, and 
hay and roots will keep them in this condition with less 
unnatural forcing than corn meal. If any grain is required, 
oats will serve the purpose of development better than 
corn. The round and sleek look of the animal, pro- 
duced by feeding corn meal, is a great temptation to the 
young feeder to give it in excess, but the health and com- 
fort of the animal are of more importance than good looks. 
If the food contains too little fat-producing material to lu- 
bricate the muscles and joints and to supply the natural 
waste by perspiration, then the store of fat which has 
been accumulated in time of plenty is drawn upon, and 
leanness ensues. 

Nature is provident, and in a normal condition of the 
animal system a sufficiency of fatty matter is carried about 
in the body not only for the day's necessities, but a store 
is kept on hand to meet any unusual demand, which the 
food may not be able wholly to supply. This surplus 
stock of fat may be increased at the will of the feeder, by 
keeping the animal quiet and warm and giving an abun- 
dance of fat-forming food. Corn is the highest type of this 
food, flaxseed-meal or oil-cake excepted, and when the 
muscle-forming and bone-forming qualities of corn are 
taken into account, corn has no rival as food for stall-fed 
animals, and no country in the world has the facilities for 
12 



266 EFFECTS OF PLASTER ON THE CORN CROP. 

producing so cheap and so good meat as ours, for nowhere 
does corn grow with such luxuriance as in its native 
American home. It may be added that nowhere is the 
consumption of meat so great, and the demand fully keeps 
pace with the supply. 

The analysis of the ash or earthy part of corn is of im- 
portance as showing what it demands of the soil, and what 
it can furnish for building up the skeleton of the animal. 
In one hundred parts of the ash we find silica 38.45, po- 
tassa 19.51, phosphate of lime 17.17, phosphate of mag- 
nesia 13.83, phosphate of potassa 2.24, carbonate of lime 
2.50, carbonate of magnesia 2.16, sulphate of lime and 
magnesia .79, silica found mechanically 1.70, alumina| 
and loss 1.65. The leading constituents of the ash of 
corn, it will be noticed, are silica, the phosphates and po- 
tassa. Silica is one of the most abundant products of na- 
ture, being the chief ingredient in sandstones, quartz and 
sandy soils. There is no lack of this leading constituent 
of corn ash in the soils of Massachusetts, except it may 
be in some very restricted localities where clay or muck 
are foimd in great purity. As one hundred pounds of 
corn leave when burned less than two pounds ash, and 
as only three-tenths of this ash is silica, there is no dan- 
ger of the corn crop ever exhausting the stock of this ma- 
terial. The phosphates and potash are less abundant, but 
may readily be supplied when deficient by bones and Avood 
ashes. Sulphate of lime has often been found to work 
wonders on the corn crop in particular localities, but it 
does not enter largely into the composition of the ash of 
the grain, being less than one per cent. 

The importance of any one ingredient in the compo- 
sition of an article is not measured by its amount. The 
amount of iron that enters into the composition of our 



ANALYSIS OF THE CORN COB. 267 

bodies is an insignificant fraction, but without it we should 
look lifeless and feel lifeless. Besides entering directly 
into the composition of corn, plaster acts most beneficially 
on the crop by absorbing the gases necessary for its 
growth, and giving them out as the corn may make drafts 
for the same. 

It has been much disputed among practical farmers 
whether the cob contains sufficient nourishment to pay 
for grinding, some contending that it does, and others 
maintaining that mingling cob meal with corn is as bad as 
diluting milk with water. The analysis of the cob throws 
some light on this subject. Dr. Jackson of Boston has 
made many analyses of cobs, of which we give the two fol- 
lowing. The first is Burr's improved sweet corn. Cob, 
short and thick and quite large in proportion to the depth 
of kernels, weighed 480 grains. The dry powdered cob, 
gave of dry oil, .179 per cent., sugar .065, extractive mat- 
ter .242, gum and albuminous matter 3.257, and oil 3.743. 
The ash gave potash .2581 per cent., soda .2104, silica .125, 
phosphate of lime .0521, phosphate of magnesia .0279, 
oxide of iron .0416, phosphoric acid .0292, chorine .0292, 
carbonic acid and coal .0812. The analysis of Button 
corn gave the weight of the dried cob at 830 grains, con- 
taining of fixed oil .249, sugar .333, gum and albumen 2.7. 
The ash of the Button cob did not differ essentially from 
that of the sweet corn. The late Br. Emmons of Williams 
College gives us an analysis of the corn cob, not specify- 
ing the variety, from which he obtained 2 per cent, of 
gluten and gum, and in all over 15 per cent, of nutritive 
matter, and concludes that the grinding of the cob with 
the corn is the most economical disposition of it. " There 
is," he adds, '' another reason for the practice, in the in- 
crease of the bulk of the food, for it is unsafe to feed con- 



268 VALUE OF THE COB FOR AND^IAL FOOD. 

centrated nourishment to grass-eating animals." As the 
millers charge the same toll for grinding cobs as for the 
pure corn, the economy of grinding must depend much 
upon the kind of animals to which the corn is to be fed. 
If young and growing, the cob must, in earthy matter, 
furnish much material for building up the frame ; but if 
the animal is mature and needs to be fattened, pure corn 
is preferable. To horses doing light work, cob meal may ' 
also be fed with profit. We need more accurate observa-^' 
tion and experiment on this point, and more exact and 
careful statements of the results attained. It seems desir- 1 
able that some more economical mode of grinding the corn 
and cob together may be devised, as both science and prac- 
tice agree in assigning to it more or less nutritive value, 
and the great amount of ash the cob furnishes it is certainly , 
desirable should be retained for incorporation into thef 
animal skeleton. By grinding the corn and cob together, 
the labor of shelling the corn is also avoided. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

VARIETIES OF CORN AND ITS CULTIVATION. 

^^fe HE varieties of Indian corn are almost innumera- 
(d^ ble. Its wide adaptation to different soils and 
^W^^ climates renders it also liable to great changes in its 
"^w^ character. On the shores of Lake Superior we find 
it a shrubby reed; on the bottom lands of the Missis- 
sippi it towers up in colossal proportions ; in Canada we 
find dwarfed stalks and tiny ears, with compact, yellow, 
glossy kernels ; in the South grow the mammoth ears of 
the white and yellow gourd-seed varieties. As found 
growing wild in some parts of our country, each kernel 
is surrounded by a husk of its own, and enjoys individual 
sovereignty, Avhile in its confederate relations the thick 
husk of the ear throws its ample protection over the whole. 
When under cultivation and the corn attains to the dignity 
of civilized life, the individual husk always disappears, 
and the corn trusts itself to the protection furnished in its 
confederate relations. 

Almost every locality has its favorite variety of corn 
originating there, yielding its thousand fold, and generally 
named after the originator. Thus, in Berkshire County, 
we have the Tillotson corn, which originated with Mr. 
Tillotson of Lanesboro, who prided himself on his pre- 
mium crops. The great secret of his success lay in his 
selection of the seed. Every year, before his corn was 



270 IMPEOVEMENT OF SEED. 

harvested, he went through his field selecting the most 
perfect and the earliest ripened ears from those stocks on 
which grew the largest number of ears. Doing this year 
after year, he finally established for his corn a reputation 
for early maturity and great productiveness. Mr. Tillot- 
son did for his corn just what Bakewell did for his sheep ; 
he made it thorough-bred. The same improvement was 
made on a more extended scale by Mr. Baden of Mary- 
land, the originator of the famous gourd-seed variety 
which bears his name. He says he began with the com- 
mon corn of Virginia, which had hardly two ears to a 
stalk ; selected for seed from stalks having the most ears 
only the sound and ripe, of deepest and best color and 
least cob, rejecting the irregular kernels at both ends ; fol- 
lowed this course twenty-three years — several before he 
saw much improvement — when he took the seed only from 
stalks having at least four ears. Some have borne ten. 

Mr. Baden thus succeeded in establishing a variety of 
corn of which he thinks he can raise twice as much as of 
any other. One hundred and twenty bushels of shelled 
corn of this variety, it is claimed, have been raised from 
an acre, and ten bushels of ears will yield six bushels of 
shelled corn. The stalks are twelve to sixteen feet high, 
ears six to eight feet from the ground, and the grain ex- 
cellent. Of course it is not adapted to the latitude of New 
England, but what Mr. Baden has done for Maryland, 
some other patient and persevering man can do for Mas- 
sachusetts. 

The variety which has enjoyed, perhaps, the most ex- 
tensive reputation in New England is the Button corn, so 
called from its originator, Mr. Salmon Button of Ver- 
mont, who introduced it in 1818. It is very early, being 
ready for harvest from the last week in August to the 



POPULAR VARIETIES. 271 

second week in September. It is a twelve-rowed va- 
riety, with a large cob, but produces abundantly, and 
two bushels of ears yield one and three-eighths bushels of 
shelled corn. The Dutton is a seedling from the Golden 
Sioux of Canada, and is rich in oil, and therefore well 
adapted for fattening purposes. 

King Philip is another popular variety in New Eng- 
land, so called from being procured of the tribe of Indians 
of Avhich he was chief. It is eight-rowed, and the ears 
are longer, the kernels larger and the cob smaller than 
the Dutton, but the kernels are not so compact on the ear. 
It is a very early and productive variety, but thought by 
many not equal to the varieties of Canada origin for fat- 
tening purposes. A small variety known by the name of 
Canada corn ripens in ninety to one hundred days from 
planting, and though the stalks are dwarfish in size, yields 
an abundant crop of heavy corn, abounding in oil, and is 
a popular variety in the northern and mountainous regions 
of New England, where the shortness of the season ren- 
ders other larger and later varieties uncertain. It can be 
planted compactly, and has been known to produce 75 to 
80 bushels of grain of a highly nutritive quality. 

It is not a little singular that we who are accustomed 
to the yellow, flinty and oily corn of New England, should 
prefer it to the white southern gourd-seed, and esteem the 
latter insipid and only fit for horses. Northern corn 
in a northern market always commands the higher price. 
Precisely the reverse of this is true at the South. Our 
southern friends consider our little yellow corn as strong 
and heating, fit only for brute beasts, while their own is 
sweet and savory. In this view it must be confessed they 
are sustained by the inhabitants of the Middle States and 
by Englishmen. In England the white corn always sells 



272 WHITE AND YELLOW COEN. 

for one or two shillings a quarter more than the yellow. 
New Englanders do not object to this, as we raise no corn 
for export. 

The southern corn may make a whiter looking bread, 
and to those who like it is just the corn for them to raise, 
but there is no question but that the corn grown in higher 
latitudes is richer in oil and saccharine matter ; and as for 
the color, that is a matter of taste. Some may prefer the 
pearly white, and others the golden yellow, and if so, 
the true mode is to agree to differ. By a wise provision 
of Providence, the southern corn, abounding, as it does, 
in starch, is best adapted to the inhabitants of a warm 
climate ; while the northern, having more oil, is equally 
well fitted to keep up the temperature of the body of 
those who live in a colder region. That each latitude 
should prefer its own production is not, therefore, won- 
derful. If the object of raising corn is to make starch, 
then the southern corn is best ; but if the object is to feed 
to stock, to furnish gluten for muscle and oil for fattening, 
then both analysis and trial favor the heavy, flinty grained 
varieties of the North. 

The peculiarities of sweet corn are, that it contains 
little starch, much sugar and gum, and a large amount of 
phosphates, and in the process of drying the sugar parts 
with its moisture, and the corn shrivels. The varieties of 
sweet corn are legion. It is so great a favorite for a table 
vegetable, that the competition is great among market 
gardeners to raise early and choice varieties. The period 
of maturity has been so much hastened by the selection 
of early seed year after year, that some of the dwarf va- 
rieties furnish developed ears in six to eight weeks after 
planting. What has been gained in maturity, however, 
has been lost in size. Burr's improved is one of the best 



SWEET CORN. 273 

sorts for a general crop, and for late planting the Stowell 
evergreen stands unrivaled. 

Not only is sweet corn good for the table, but for feed- 
ing young stock ; the large amount of phosphate of lime 
it contains renders it the best of food, furnishing them the 
material from which to make bones. The stalks of sweet 
corn also are as much better for cattle as the corn is for 
the table. If the stalks of both the common and sweet 
varieties are fed to cattle at the same time, they will pick 
out the sweet and neglect the other till hunger compels 
them to eat. We have fed the stalks of sweet corn to 
cows for a time, and then changed to those of the com- 
mon variety, which the cows would smell of, and then 
look up as if asking, " Have you nothing better to offer 
us?" The flow of milk is also much better from the 
sweet corn fodder. When corn is sown merely for the 
purpose of raising fodder to be fed out in a green state, as 
the pastures fail in August, we should advise sowing the 
Stowell evergreen solely. It is, however, so succulent 
that it is difficult drying it for winter fodder, and is most 
economically used directly from the field in the summer 
and autumn. 

We must not omit, in speaking of the varieties of corn, 
to allude to that little favorite, pop-corn, which furnishes 
so much amusement and healthy nourishment for the 
children. As an article of food, easily digested, it is well 
worth raising by every family that owns a garden. Pop- 
corn contains its oil in little subdivided cells in the horny 
portion of the grain. When heated the oil is converted 
into carbureted hydrogen gas, the same that is used for 
lighting houses, and as it explodes every cell is broken, 
and the grain turned inside out, making music for the 
urchins which they prefer to that of the piano. Children 
12* 



274 PHILOSOPHY OF POP-CORN. 

are always fond of it, and the amusement which it fur- 
nishes of a long winter's evening adds not a little to the 
comfort of the home circle, and whatever contributes to 
make home pleasant is certainly worth cultivating. 

Much as has been done in the way of improvement in 
the varieties of corn, the margin for further improvement 
is still great. A perfect corn for New England has not 
yet been reached. We need a variety of great hardiness, 
that will resist the extremes of wet and dry, hot and 
cold, to which we are exposed, — one that will mature 
early and still furnish a large ear, with a small cob, a large 
heavy grain, thickly set upon the ear. Whoever will do 
for the latitude of New England what Mr. Baden has 
done for that of Maryland, will show himself a public 
benefactor. 

We can not expect a growth like that of Tennessee, 
where they boast of stalks over twenty feet inhight, looking 
like saplings, and yielding ears containing thirty-six rows ; 
but we can have a variety adapted to our short season, that 
will 3'ield more remuneratively than any we have at pres- 
ent, though we will give the farmers credit for selecting 
their seed corn with more care than any other seeds which 
they sow, and it is to this careful selection that we attrib- 
ute the excellence which the corn crop of New England 
has ever maintained relatively Avith other parts of the 
country. While the average production of Virginia per 
acre is 18 bushels, and the average of the whole country 
is about 25 bushels, the average of New England is 36. 

The soil best adapted to the growth and perfection of 
corn is a deep, rich, sandy loam. In such a soil the roots 
penetrate to a great depth, and the plant grows wdth 
wonderful rapidity and luxuriance. Its broad foliage en- 
ables it to draw much of its support from the air, and if 



ADAPTATION OF SOIL. 275 

the soil abounds in the mineral elements it needs, and is 
permeable to heat and air, the crop is very sure of being 
remunerative. A hard, clay soil, retentive of moisture 
and consequently cold, is uncongenial to corn, and must 
be drained before corn can be grown upon it successfully. 
At the same time it may be said that this plant has great 
flexibility of character, and adapts itself to all climates 
and soils. It is a gross feeder, and is not particular about 
the table on which its food is spread, provided only there 
is an abundance of food. There is scarcely any soil that 
can not, with suitable culture, be made to yield large and 
profitable crops. Unlike other cereals, it can not be over- 
fed, nor will its foliage be increased by high manuring at 
the expense of the grain. 

Where it is practicable select a rich, sandy loam, with 
a heavy turf, the older the better, and plow not less than 
eight inches deep, and deeper still unless you bring up too 
much of the subsoil. One or two inches of the subsoil 
brought up each year to be ameliorated by' the action of 
air and light, will do no damage to the growing crop, pro- 
vided a plentiful supply of manure is furnished, and in 
the course of a few years, a shallow soil may be thus con- 
verted into a deep and mellow one. If the soil is a stiff 
clay loam the plowing is best done in the fall, so that the 
freezing and thawing of winter may break down the clay 
and render it more friable. The absorbing power of clay 
enables it during the winter to retain much of the fertiliz- 
ing matter brought down from the ah: by the snow. In 
no case must a clay soil be plowed while wet either for 
corn or any other crop, as it bakes into hard lumps, which 
no subsequent culture through the summer can pulverize 
thoroughly. 

The manures best adapted to the corn crop must vary 



276 APPROPKIATE MANURES. 

with the character of the soil. In general it may be said 
that barn-yard manure contains all the elements which 
this and all other crops demand. At the same time it 
must be conceded that many soils are deficient in the 
phosphates and other earthy matters which corn demands 
in large quantities, and that these can be supplied more 
cheaply than by means of barn-yard manure. It often 
happens that a few dollars spent in ashes, plaster, or phos- 
phate of lime, will answer for the corn crop as well as 
many loads of manure from the barn-yard. 

One of the most valuable manures for corn is found in 
the pig-pen, especially where the swine have been corn- 
fed. This is rich in phosphates, and, indeed, in all the 
elements which the corn originally contained; as, in fat- 
tening swine, the carcass being abeady well developed, 
the oil and starch are the main compounds in the food 
which the animal needs for assimilation, and the balance 
are rejected so far as they are not required for sustaining 
the waste of the body. If, therefore, the manure of the 
pig-sty is composted with muck, leaf mould or other car- 
bonaceous matter, we have all the elements in a very avail- 
able form, and in the right proportion Avhich the corn crop 
demands. The same is the case with the manure of stall- 
fed oxen where corn is the main feed. The principle may 
be made general, that wherever corn is the leading feed, 
the manure of those animals should be reserved for special 
application to the corn crop. 

Experience has shown that the hennery is another 
source of manure specially adapted for corn. The ma- 
nure of birds has this great advantage over others, that 
the liquid and solid excrements are combined. It is par- 
ticularly rich in nitrogen and saline matters, and, mixed 
with a little plaster and muck, and a handful droj)ped in 



METHOD OF APPLICATION. 277 

the hill at the time of planting the corn, it gives results 
sometimes so large that they are scarcely credible. 

The question whether to plow the manure under, or to 
keep it nearer the surface of the ground, is one about 
which practical farmers are much divided. The prevail- 
ing custom of former years in New England has been to 
cart the manure from the barn in the spring, dump it in 
little heaps about the field, and spread and plow under as 
soon as the weather will permit. Much of the manure is 
in rude lumps and unbroken masses, strangely contrast- 
ing with the fine roots and fibers through whose minute 
mouths the nourishment must enter to support the grow- 
ing corn. 

When this same land is plowed the succeeding au- 
tumn or spring, we have often noticed, on clay lands es- 
pecially, these lumps of manure very little changed by 
their six or twelve months' sojourn in the soil. Where 
the land was in good heart, and a sprinkling of fine ma- 
nure was placed upon the surface or in the hill to give 
the corn a start, we have known good crops of corn 
raised by this wasteful mode of manuring. We are glad, 
however, to say that the more economical mode of com- 
posting manure, cooking it and reducing it to a fine state, 
and placing it nearer the surface where the rootlets can 
more readily avail themselves of it, is coming gradually 
into favor. The finer the manure is made the more easily 
it is dissolved in water, and the sooner it passes into the 
circulation of the plant. Both the soil and the fertil- 
izer require to be thoroughly pulverized and intimately 
blended. This can not be done with the manure buried 
in lumps at the depth of six or eight inches. 

Another disputed point among farmers is whether to 
select the seed from the tip, middle or butt ends of the 



278 EXPERIMENTS IN SEEDS. 

ears. By an experiment of one year made on the farm 
of the State Reform School at Westboro, while under the 
care of the Massachusetts Board of Agriculture, it was 
decided that the seed from the butt end of the ear gave 
the greatest return in corn and stover, then the seed from 
the tip, and last and least was the return from the middle 
seed of the ear. Another experiment recorded in the 
report of the Massachusetts Board for 1858 gives the 
greatest return from the seed of the tips. Mr. Baden, 
however, in perfecting his famous corn, rejected both the 
tips and butts for seed, and there is no question that the 
majority of the testimony is in favor of this mode. The 
tips may answer for seed for a jesiv or two, and little if 
any diminution of the crop follow; but if this practice of 
planting tips only were followed for a succession of years, 
we should expect deterioration, much as occurs in the 
potato crop from planting only small potatoes for a series 
of years. If only the irregular kernels at the butt ends 
should be planted year after year, we should expect finally 
to see irregular rows running through the whole ear, just 
as we expect to find irregular teeth in the mouth of a 
child whose ancestry, for a succession of generations, have 
had irregular teeth. 

The advantages attending a discriminating selection of 
seed are well established by the uniform results of prac- 
tice ; and it seems unaccountable that any intelligent cul- 
tivator can be indifferent to a matter of so much impor- 
tance. The law that seed should produce after its kind 
was stamped upon nature at the creation, and if the 
farmer plants inferior grain, he must make up his mind to 
harvest an inferior crop. The difference between a large 
and remunerative crop, and a small and unprofitable one, 
may be entirely due to the difference of seed. We have 



TIME AND MODE OF PLANTING. 279 

as mucli faith in thorough-bred seed as in thorough-bred 
stock; and one of the wants of the times is some one 
who will carefully collect and propagate the best seeds of 
corn and other grains, for a series of years, till their char- 
acteristics are as well established as are those of a Dur- 
ham heifer or a Cotswold sheep. We commend this 
subject to the attention of our friends at the Agricultural 
College. 

As to the time and mode of planting and cultivating 
corn, we can only say that the time must be determined 
by the temperature of the weather, and not by the day of 
the month. It is of the utmost importance that the seed 
should germinate speedily after it is planted, and that it 
should receive no check in its growth. From the 20th 
of May till the 1st of June is the corn-planting season in 
most parts of Massachusetts. On warm, sandy soils it 
may be planted at an earlier period, but in all cases the 
temperature of the soil must be 58° (Dr. Emmons says 
60*^), or the seed will not germinate, and in a few days 
will rot. We are satisfied that much corn is injured by 
being planted at too great a depth. If covered with three 
or four inches of earth it germinates more slowly, and 
when the plant has grown three or four inches above the 
ground it is apt to remain stationary for a few days, while 
the roots make a change of base. The lower roots die, 
and new lateral roots are sent out an inch or two above 
the germ, and not till the latter roots are firmly established 
does the plant grow with luxuriance ; and the check it has 
received has a permanent dwarfing effect. From the ex- 
periments of a careful observer, we learn that corn planted 
at the depth of an inch came up in 8 1-2 days ; 1 1-2 
inches, 9 1-2 days; 2 inches, 10 days; 2 1-2 inches, 11 1-2 
days ; 3 inches, 12 days ; 3 1-2 inches, 13 days ; 5 1-2 inches, 



280 HARVESTING THE CROP. 

17 1-2 days. In the latter case the plants were very 
feeble, and died after a short struggle for life. The depth 
of planting must be determined by the character of the 
soil. The conditions of germination are heat, moisture, 
air and absence of light. In a light, sandy soil, if planted 
only an inch deep, in a dry time, there might not be 
moisture sufficient for germination. 

Our fathers, following the Indian example, planted in 
hills, and in cultivation drew the dirt around the stalks so 
as to form a conical or convex hill. There is no question 
but that more corn can be obtained by planting in drills, 
and the practice of the best cultivators favors keeping the 
ground as level as possible. If the earth is piled up 
around the stalks, they send out new roots, making an- 
other change of base, and thus retarding the maturity of 
the crop. The cultivator must be run between the drills 
often enough to keep the weeds down and the soil mellow 
and open to atmospheric influences. After every shoAver 
a dry crust is apt to form on the surface of the soil, which 
is an impediment to the entrance of dew and air, and 
should be broken by the cultivator. 

The mode of harvesting corn is another disputed point 
among practical farmers, but the more common practice 
of New England to cut up the corn near the roots, when 
the ears are partially glazed, is justified both by the theory 
of the circulation of the sap and by careful experiment. 
The late Judge Buel of Albany, one of the most careful 
experimenters, was a strong advocate for cutting up corn 
by the roots, not only as furnishing more and better sto- 
ver, but better grain. The late Henry Coleman of this 
State, another careful observer, says, that of three appa,- 
rently equal rows in a field, the one cut up by the roots 
gave 9 5-8 bushels of corn, while the two that were 



CUTTING CORN AT THE EOOTS. 281 

topped gave respectively 7 6-8 and 7 3-8 bushels. Another 
farmer of this State, finds, as the result of a careful exper- 
iment conducted with a reference to ascertaining the best 
mode of harvesting corn, that by cutting the stalks above 
the ears there was a loss on an acre of twelve bushels 
three and one-half pounds, besides the loss on the stalks. 
In conclusion, we say we deprecate the idea of the 
farmers of Massachusetts giving up the corn crop, and 
substituting for it roots, cabbages, or tobacco. Roots are 
good in their place ; cabbages are good ; tobacco we 
know nothing of from personal experience, but we agree 
with Whittier in the conclusion of his beautiful song ; — 

*'But let the good old crop adorn 
The hills our fathers trod ; 
Still let us for his golden corn 
Send up our thanks to God.** 



LECTUEE TEN"TH. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

THE ROOT CROP. 

|E have hesitated whether to direct your atten- 
_ ^ tion in this lecture to the minor cereals, or to 
f®^^ consider that more neglected branch of agricul- 
ture, the root crop. Fully believing that the 
best farming is that which will give the greatest suste- 
nance to animals, and that 1200 bushels of mangold wurzels 
on an acre are better for stock than 40 bushels of oats, and 
1000 bushels of turnips better than 30 bushels of barley, 
and 800 bushels of carrots better than 20 bushels of rye, 
we have concluded to speak a word for these roots. There 
is no danger that the grains will be neglected. Custom 
sanctions the culture of grains, and custom is a power- 
ful law, especially with an agricultural community. Since 
Ceres committed to Triptolemus her chariot drawn by 
dragons, in which by her command he traveled over the 
earth distributing grain to the inhabitants, the Cereals 
have been looked upon as the special gifts of Heaven to 
farmers, to be cherished with the utmost assiduity. We 
do not mean to say that the farmers of New England 
worship Ceres, or believe that she brought the grains down 
from heaven, as did the old Greeks and Romans, who 



UNKNOWN TO THE ANCIENTS. 283 

thouglit it impious to change the processes of culture 
which Ceres had taught them, lest they should appear to 
derogate from her wisdom and thus incur her displeasure. 
But it does seem as if some shadow of the old delusion 
has come down to the present day, for in no art is it so 
difficult to give currency to new ideas and new modes of 
progress as in agriculture. 

Roots have as good a claim to a divine origin as wheat 
or barley. Triptolemus did not, indeed, carry them in his 
chariot, and the old Greeks knew but little about them, 
the more is the pity. The Egyptians had their leeks and 
onions, which the children of Israel lusted after, when 
they were in the wilderness, but the long catalogue of 
vegetables which now minister to our health and comfort, 
and should minister to the health and comfort of our do- 
mestic animals, were unknown to the ancient nations of 
the earth, and are slow in making their way into general 
use in modern times. 

Still they are good gifts of Him whose wisdom made 
them all, and should be received with thanksgiving. We 
can hardly see how the ancients managed to live without 
turnips, beets, parsnips, and, more especially, without po- 
tatoes. A blessed discontent would have arisen among 
them, had they not lived in blessed ignorance of these 
roots. Still it was two hundred years after the introduc- 
tion of potatoes into England before they came into gen- 
eral use in that country, and they are now comparatively 
little used in Southern Europe. 

^ In warm climates fruits may take the place of roots as 
an article of diet for men, and the cattle may browse and 
graze during the winter and not suffer for the want of 
succulent food ; but in the cold climate of New England, 
where cattle must be housed for nearly six months, it is a 



284 NECESSAEY TO HEALTH. 

great cruelty, as well as a wretched economy, to restrict 
them to hay for this length- of time. Neither can grain, 
on the supposition that we can afford to raise it for stock, 
supersede the use of roots in the animal economy. The 
health of the animal demands a mixed food, of which the 
succulent roots should constitute a part, not only to fur- 
nish nourishment, but to keep the system in a relaxed and 
at the same time in a vigorous condition. 

We have no objections to feeding our domestic animals 
some grain if we can afford it, but the quantity of grain 
grown in New England is small, and becoming beautifully 
less. By the monthly report of the Commissioner of 
Agriculture for January, 1869, we find the average pro- 
duct of oats per acre in Massachusetts for 1868 was 24.1 
bushels; of barley, 20.1; of rye, 16.1, and of corn, 37. 
Even where grain is fed to stock, the cooling, antiseptic 
influence of roots is necessary to keep the animal in good 
health. For fattening purposes we make no claim for 
roots as being equal to corn, and to assert, as some have, 
that a bushel of carrots is equal to a bushel of oats for 
horses, shows ignorance of the relative nutritive proper- 
ties of the two substances. The equivalent must be in 
their medicinal, not in their nutritive, effect. But when 
we consider that we can raise eight hundred bushels of 
carrots on an acre where we can raise only fifty bushels 
of oats, — that is, sixteen times as many carrots as oats, — 
we may well consider whether the roots are not the more 
profitable crop. 

Mr. William Birnie of Springfield, an extensive breeder 
and feeder of stock, never fails of raising a large quantity 
of roots. He is an accurate observer and a close calcula- 
tor, and if roots did not pay, we may be sure he would 
have discontinued raising them ere this. Mangold wur- 



DO ROOTS PAY? 285 

zels are his favorite root. He reports raising in 1859, on 
2 1-2 acres of land, 3,166 bushels, or 95 tons, of this root. 
This gives 1,266 bushels, or 38 tons, to the acre. The 
cost of growing and harvesting these was 6 1-2 cents per 
bushel, when stored in the cellar, according to an accurate 
account of labor, fertilizers, etc. In 1862 Dr. George B. 
Loring reports raising on 1 1-8 acres, 1,800 bushels or 48 
tons of the yellow globe mangolds, at a cost by accurate 
account of 9 1-2 cents per bushel. The same year he re- 
ports raising 750 bushels of Swedes turnips per acre, at a 
cost of 7 3-6 cents per bushel. 

Still, it must be confessed, notwithstanding these iso- 
lated cases of successful culture of roots, their general cul- 
ture throughout the State has not made the rapid progress 
that was expected when Daniel Webster came back from 
his mission to England with his glowing accounts of the tur- 
nip crops of that country. By the returns of the industry 
of the State for 1865, we learn that only 3,134 acres were 
that year devoted to the culture of turnips, and only 527 
acres to carrots. It would seem that only the progressive 
farmers are cultivating these roots. We are confident 
that the great majority depend solely upon dry hay to keep 
their stock through the winter, and, judging from the 
looks of the herds in the spring, we are equally confident 
that the cattle have a sorry time of it. 

We have great faith in good hay. It is the staff of life 
for all domestic animals. They rely upon it as man does 
upon bread, but we should be very loth to be confined to 
a bread and water diet ; neither should we be willing to 
restrict our animals to hay and water. It takes them half 
the summer to recover from the effects of a deprivation of 
succulent food during the winter. We hardly know how 
to account for the slow introduction of roots in New Eng- 



286 FOLLOWING OLD CUSTOMS. 

land as a part of the winter food of stock. We do not 
like to attribute it to ignorance or i)rejudice. The Yan- 
kees are generally quick to see where the golden current 
runs with most depth and velocity, and to steer their boat 
in that channel. We are inclined to attribute the slow 
introduction of roots to the force of custom. Our fathers 
left England before the general introduction of turnip cul- 
ture into that country, and brought from thence the cus- 
tom of feeding hay as the sole reliance of stock during 
the winter, — a custom much better adapted to the mild 
chmate of England, where the plow runs every month in 
the year, and comparatively few of the cattle are housed.}} 

It is well known that England had reached the limit 
of her ability for supporting animals by hay alone, when 
her attention was turned by Lord Townshend to the in- 
creased capacity of the island for sustaining stock by the 
culture of turnips. This idea was ridiculed, and he was 
stigmatized with the name of Turnip Townshend. Truth, 
however, triumphed over ridicule, as she is always des- 
tined to do, and now it is scarcely an exaggeration to say 
that the power of England is based upon her iron, her 
coal and her turnips. Since the introduction of root cul- 
ture, her capacity for carrying stock has doubled, and, of 
course, the quantity of manure has doubled, and a new 
stimulus has been given to every branch of agriculture. 
As roots appreciated, hay and grain also increased, so that 
in England, to-day, the average product of wheat to the 
acre is 36 bushels, while in New England the average for 
this grain in 1868 was less than 10 bushels. The sobri- 
quet of Turnip, given to Lord Townshend in scorn, will 
ever cling to him as an honor. Now 3,000,000 of acres 
are devoted in England to the cultivation of turnips, and 
the crop is estimated to be worth 1200,000,000. 



KOOT-EAISING IN ENGLAND. 287 

We know it is said by some that the foggy atmosphere 
of England favors the cultivation of turnips, and pro- 
hibits the raising of Indian corn, and that could this fa- 
vorite cereal of America, so excellent for its feeding 
qualities, be raised in that country, we should hear less 
of turnips. 

There is some foundation for this conclusion, and we 
have no desire to disparage corn. Next to grass, it is the 
main-stay of our cattle, and has enabled our farmers to 
have roast beef on their tables each day in the year, if 
they desired it, and for fattening swine it is seemingly in- 
dispensable. Though not placed by Ceres among the 
grains in the chariot of Triptolemus, it is none the less a 
gift from heaven to be received with gratitude and cher- 
ished with all care, and we can never think of our English 
. cousins as being deprived, by their lowering skies, of this 
luscious vegetable on their tables, and of this golden grain 
for their stock, without a feeling of compassion. Still, 
England, without the ability to raise corn as a general 
field crop, can show the best herds of cattle that are to 
be found in the world, and her roast beef and mutton- 
chops are unsurpassed by any corn-growing country. It 
must be acknowledged there is virtue in turnips and good 
hay to make good cattle and good beef, and the question 
for the New England farmer of to-day is, whether he can 
not increase his stock and consequently his profits, we 
wUl not say by raising less corn, but by raising more roots. 

We are aware that the verdict of the majority of the 
farmers, as evinced by their practice, is against the roots ; 
but, so far as our observation extends, the most intelligent 
and successful raise them and find great advantage in it. 
The most juicy and tender beef we have ever made, was 
fattened mainly on turnips and early cut hay, and at half 



288 GOOD BEEF FROM TURNIPS. 

the expense the same would have cost us if fattened by 
hay and grain. The most skillful breeders and feeders 
with whom we are acquainted, recommend, both for grow- 
ing and mature stock, a mixture of roots with the winter 
feed. 

Where milk is the object in feeding, roots should cer- 
tainly constitute a part of the feed. The idea of making 
milk from dry hay alone is simply preposterous, certaijily 
when the grass is cut, as is too often the case, after the 
formation of the seed, and the sugar and starch of the 
stems and leaves have been converted into woody fiber. 
For farmers to require their cows to make milk from such 
hay, is as bad as for the Egyptians to compel the Israelites 
to make brick without straw. If cows furnish milk in such 
unfavorable circumstances, they must do it at the expense 
of the tissues of their bodies, and must come out in the 
spring as poor as the lean kine that appeared to Pharaoh 
in a dream, coming up from the waters of the Nile, "poor 
and very ill-favored and lean-fleshed, such as I never saw 
in all the land of Egypt for badness." Their counter- 
parts for badness may never have been seen in all the 
land of Egypt, but if they were any worse than some we 
have seen in Massachusetts, they could hardly have crawled 
up the banks of the river. 

Cows can give milk just as well in winter as in sum- 
mer, but in order to do this they must have warm stables 
and succulent food, and in no way can the latter be fur- 
nished so economically and successfully as by roots. Meal, 
made into a thin mush, may answer the purpose and gives 
a richer milk, but it is more expensive, and is not so 
healthy a food as June cut hay, fed in connection with 
roots. Cows will continue their milking qualities for a 
series of years better with this simple diet than when fed 



ROOTS FOR MILCH COWS. 289 

with the more stimulating corn meal. A little meal in 
connection with the roots may be advantageous, as the 
laxative nature of the roots will counteract the heating: 
tendency of the meal, and the latter will serve to keep 
the animals in good flesh. 

It is objected sometimes to roots that they contain from 
80 to 90 per cent, of water. It is true that they contain 
this large amount of water, but this is no objection to 
their use. Most of the natural food of all animals con- 
tains a large per cent, of water, and where it is not natu- 
rally present in sufficient quantity, water is added to pre- 
pare it for digestion and assimilation. The dry flour from 
which we make our bread contains 16 per cent, of water 
and 84 per cent, solid matter, and when it is made into 
bread we add 50 per cent, more water; so that, Avith 
every 150 pounds of bread we consume, we take 6Q 
pounds of water, and we still think it very dry food, un- 
less we have a cup of water or tea with which we can di- 
lute it as we eat. Lean beef contains 78 per cent, of 
water and blood, — full as much water as is contained in the 
potato, which has only 75 per cent. Avater. Eggs also 
contain 74 per cent, of water, — only 1 per cent, less than 
the potato, and 9 less than the carrot. 

Milk, another highly nutritious and acceptable form of 
food, contains 87 per cent, of water, as it comes fresh from 
the cow ; how much it contains when it reaches consumers 
varies with circumstances. All the fruits, which are so 
grateful to the stomach and are so easily digested, and on 
which the inhabitants of tropical climates mainly live, are 
largely composed of water. Plantains contain 73 per 
cent. ; plums and other fleshy fruits, 75 per cent. ; apples, 
strawberries and other small fruits, 80 per cent., while 
melons contain over 90. Now, experience shows that all 
13 



290 WATER ESSENTIAL TO LIFE. 

this water is essential to our health, and if at any time we 
take what we call dry food, that is, food in which less 
than one-half is water, we require, besides the saliva, to 
wash it down and assist in its digestion, some accompany- 
ing fluid. 

We have the highest scientific authority for saying that 
the most wholesome food is that which is largely diluted 
with water ; but the universal practice of men is sufficient 
testimony on this point. As our bodies are composed of 
three-fourths water, it is absolutely essential that the food 
which nourishes these bodies should contain, or be accom- 
panied by, a similar proportion of liquid ; and when the 
liquid is contained in the food, it is generally more palata- 
ble and nourishing than when added extraneously. Thus 
a juicy apple is always more acceptable than a dry one, 
which requires a little water to wash it down ; and a piece 
of meat which has been roasted or broiled till the natural 
juices are all evaporated, becomes a mass of dry fiber, and 
is about as unpalatable and indigestible as so much 
leather. The objection, therefore, to roots, that they con- 
tain a large amount of water, is a mere prejudice. The 
same objection might be urged with still greater force 
against white clover, which, in the opinion of most practi- 
cal farmers, is the perfection of summer food for cattle, 
and still it contains only a little over one-half as much 
nutritive matter as the Swedish turnip. 

Very possibly, also, there are floating through the 
juices of all these succulent plants certain chemical agents, 
too minute and refined for any chemist's tests, which 
render them peculiarly acceptable to the animal system. 
We know that each has a flavor peculiar to itself, which 
renders the vegetable pleasant or disagreeable as tastes 
may differ, but to analyze these flavors, and to account for 



ANIMAL CRAVING FOR ROOTS. 291 

their different refreshing and stimuLating effects, is asking 
too much of science in its present stage of development. 
The fact, however, that the smell of a rose often does 
good like a medicine, and that the flavor of new-mown 
hay stimulates the workers in the hay-field with a feeling 
of unusual strength, cannot be denied. There is some- 
thing in the juice of a peach which often refreshes the 
invalid more than mere nutrition could do, and our 
soldiers tell us that nothing was so grateful to them while 
in the tented field as vegetables. From their scanty and 
hard-earned wages, they were often glad to pay a dollar 
apiece for onions and potatoes. 

That the inferior animals have something of the same 
craving for fresh vegetable food, is manifest from the 
greediness shown for it, when confined in their stables. 
A miser never looked on gold with a more covetous eye 
than a cow exhibits when she sees a turnip, after having 
been deprived of esculent food for a time. Whether, 
therefore, the amount of nutrition in roots is sufficient or 
not to pay for the extra labor of their production, we con- 
sider the question settled that a merciful man,who has regard 
to the health and comfort of his animals, will feed them 
some roots. But on the farm, as everywhere else, mercy 
and thrift are allies, and never go counter to each other. 
We contend just as strongly for the nutrition of roots as 
we do for their medicinal virtues. 

We have the authority of Johnston for saying that the 
dry meal made from turnips is quite equal to that of 
Indian corn for feeding stock, abounding as it does in 
gluten, starch and sugar. The gluten furnishes the ma- 
terial from which muscle is made, and the starch and sugar 
are designed to lay on fat and support respiration. The 
only respect in which turnip meal is inferior to corn inefil, 



292 TURNIPS COMPARED TO CORN. 

is in the amount of oil ready prepared for assimilation by 
the animal ; but this defect is more than compensated by 
the superior amount of muscle-forming material, which is 
nearly twice as much in dry turnip meal as in corn meal, 
rendering the former the superior food for growing stock, 
when fat is not the object aimed at in feeding. Attempts 
have been made in England to substitute turnip meal for 
wheat flour in the manufacture of bread, but it has been 
found impossible to eliminate the peculiar turnip flavor 
which to most palates is so disagreeable. 

It must not be inferred from the almost total absence 
of oil which analysis gives in the roots, that they there- 
fore contain no fattening properties. The eight per 
cent, of starch and sugar which is the average found in 
them in their natural watery condition, and the eighty 
per cent, of these substances found in the dry meal, 
furnish a good supply of fat-forming material, which is 
only inferior to that found in corn and flaxseed meal, 
inasmuch as it must be chemically changed in the animal 
into fat, a process which we know but little about, but 
which is doubtless performed at some expense of vital 
energy. These deductions of science are not at variance 
with the conclusions of observing, practical feeders. The 
Englishman keeps his young stock in a good, growing, 
healthy condition through the winter by feeding roots and 
straw, and when the animals are mature enough to be 
converted into beef, he substitutes hay for the straw and 
winds up with a littlo oil-cake. 

And here let me say in passing, that the age of maturity 
when the fat should be laid on is not when neat stock is 
at two or three years of age, as many of our farmers suppose. 
A great mistake is made in this country by turning over 



PREMATURE SLAUGHTER OF ANIMALS. 293 

to the butcher young, growing stock, two or three years 
old. Such beef is immature. The muscles are undeveloped. 
The natural tendency of the animal at this age is not to 
put on fat, but to grow, to convert its food into bones and 
muscles, with only fat enough to keep well lubricated, and 
make locomotion easy, not cumbersome. The food of the 
animal, when young, should be of such a nature as to 
stimulate this growth ; and we can never expect our roast 
beef to compare favorably with that of England, till we 
cease killing so much immature stock. 

The practice of our farmers in feeding and sending to 
the shambles so many two and three-year-olds is wasteful 
in the extreme, and cannot be too severely condemned. 
It arises from a haste to be rich which leads men into a 
snare. Where one dollar is saved by this premature 
slaughter, two dollars are lost. Daniel Webster, who is 
as good authority on the constitution of the ox, as on the 
constitution of the state, said no ox was fit to be slaugh- 
tered till five years old. Till then they should be kept 
growing, and for this purpose roots and hay were the 
proper food. 

It has been proved, by actual experiments in feeding, 
that 300 pounds of turnips are equivalent in nutrition to 
100 pounds of English hay. Now, as we can raise 18 tons 
of turnips per acre where we can raise two tons of hay, it 
follows that an acre will produce three times as much 
nutrition in the form of turnips as it does in hay. It may 
be thought by some that we have put the average yield 
of turnips too high when we name 18 tons per acre, but it 
certainly is no higher in proportion than the average 
quantity of hay, which is really less in Massachusetts 
than one ton per acre. We should be very sorry for any 



294 LABOR NECESSARY FOR A ROOT CROP. 

one who undertook to raise Swedes, who did not get 
20 tons to the acre, and we are equally sorry for that nu- 
merous class who raise less than two tons of hay per 
acre. 

Another great objection we hear made against the cul- 
tivation of roots, is the amount of labor their culture de- 
mands. We would like carrots for our horses and beets 
for our cows, say the moderate farmers, but we do not 
like to get down on our knees to weed carrots in the sum- 
mer, and lifting beets out of the cellar in winter is work. 
It is very true that there is work in raising and feeding 
roots. 

We know nothing great and good that can be accom- 
plished in this world without work, and the greater the 
good, the greater the amount of effort required to secure 
it. Those who undertake to go through the world on 
downy beds of ease, generally find their beds are made of 
thorns instead of down. Something for nothing we are 
continually looking for, but never find, unless it is in 
speculation, Avhich is not legitimate business, and even 
then what we grasp as substance generally proves a 
shadow. There is labor in making hay, though much 
less now than formerly, thanks to the inventors of mow- 
ing-machines, tedders and horse-pitchforks; but still it 
will not be contended that the labor required for raising 
a crop of turnips is three times as great as for raising a 
crop of hay, whereas the value of the turnips is at least 
three times that of the hay. 

This objection to roots, when stripped of all disguise" 
amounts simply to a want of enterprise, the vis inertise of 
humanity which crops out among farmers occasionally as 
well as among other folks. These same persons, who ob- 
ject to roots for their stock, will raise potatoes for them- 



EXHAUSTION OF THE SOIL. 295 

selves, though the cost of their production is one dollar 
per bushel. It is not pleasant, we grant, to bow down 
before carrots and spend the live-long day in weeding and 
thinning them. We know from experience that it makes 
the back ache, and we are ready to excuse old backs from 
this service, as boys can perform it more easily than men, 
as their muscles are more supple. 

Another objection made . to roots is that they exhaust 
the land ; that a grain crop does not follow turnips as well 
as it does corn, when the same amount of manure has 
been applied to each. We are ready to grant this, but 
what does it prove? The turnips have exhausted the 
land more than the corn, simply because the turnips con- 
tain more nourishment. We can not have something 
for nothing. We can not raise 1000 bushels of turnips 
upon an acre, and feed them simply on air. The analy- 
sis of the ash of turnips shows that it is composed of 
potash 36.98, soda 6.76, chloride of sodium or common 
salt 7.85, magnesia 3.61, lime 11.14, phosphoric acid 9.74, 
sulphuric acid 12.43, silica 3.43, with a little iron and 
chloride of potassium. These substances cannot be fur- 
nished by the air ; they are of an inorganic, earthy 
nature, just such as animals require for building up their 
muscular and bony systems, and instead of complaining 
that roots exhaust the land, we should rejoice that they 
do so — that they are the medium for converting this inert 
earthy matter into animal life. We might as well com- 
plain that the miners of California, by exhuming 30 or 40 
millions of gold annually, had exhausted that State. The 
roots only do what the gold-miners have done, put into 
circulation the wealth that is hid in the^ bowels of the 
earth. 

This potash and soda and phosphorus are of no use so 



296 EXHAUSTION OF THE SOIL. 

long as they lie buried in the soil, and the farmer who 
wishes to keep them there acts the part of the miser who 
buries his gold in the ground, instead of putting it in 
circulation to stimulate production and commerce, and 
thus increase the comforts of life. We know that turnips 
demand for their successful culture much phosphate of 
lime ; but this is just what bones are made of, and when 
we get the phosphorus into the turnips, we are pretty sure 
of its finding its way into the animal ; and if more of it 
found its way to the brain, where it is also greatly needed, 
that organ would be stimulated into more active exer- 
cise. 

As a compensation for the exhaustive effects of roots 
upon the soil, we ought to say that they also return much 
to the soil. An extensive breeder of sheep, who is also 
an extensive feeder of roots, once said to us : " I don't 
think my roots save me much hay. They give my sheep 
such an appetite that they eat about as much hay with 
roots as without ; but I get large, healthy lambs, large 
clips of wool, and piles of manure." In these " piles of 
manure," as well as in milk, muscles, bones, brains and 
wool, comes in the compensation for the exhaustion of 
the land. Point us to the farm on which a few thousand 
bushels of roots are annually raised and fed to stock, and 
we will point you to one where there is no deterioration 
of the soil. If turnips impoverish the soil, why has not 
England been impoverished by the cultivation of this root 
for more than a century? Swedes turnips were intro- 
duced into England about the year 1T50, and into Scot- 
land in 1766, and their cultivation in these countries has 
steadily increased since, and the improvement of the soil 
has kept pace with the increased production of this root. 
Belgium has raised roots for a still longer period, and her 



EUROPEAN EXPERIENCES. 297 

mode of agriculture furnishes a model for all Europe, 
and, indeed, is the highest type of agriculture in most re- 
spects to be found in the western march of civilization. 
The soil of Belgium, so far from deteriorating under her 
system of root culture, has steadily improved, and she 
supports, to-day, the largest herds and the greatest popu- 
lation to the square mile of any country in Europe. How 
does she do this ? is the pertinent inquiry. It is by de- 
voting every fifth acre to the cultivation of roots. A 
Belgian farmer with 40 acres of land calculates to feed 
20 cows. 

Not the least of the benefits to be derived from the 
cultivation of roots is the deep tillage, thorough enrich- 
ment and perfect pulverization of the soil they require. 
The long tap-root of the carrot can not luxuriate in a six- 
inch soil, with a hard clay subsoil under it. We have 
watched the growth of roots in such a soil, and at the 
first start they often show well, but when in the latter 
part of the summer the rootlets reach the subsoil, then 
the bilious look of the crop gives unmistakable evidence 
of having run against a snag, and its progress is checked 
as suddenly as that of a steamer on the ui3per Missouri 
.when it strikes a sand-bar. 

There is no use in tiding to raise roots in a soil which 
is not thoroughly drained, deeply plowed, richly manured, 
and well-pulverized and aerated. When these things are 
attended to, the profit is great, and the benefit is spread 
over many years ; and we confidently expect that when 
the roots receive that attention in New England which 
their importance demands, we shall see a general eleva- 
tion in every department of agriculture. Cattle must 
certainly fare better, and with the big piles of manure 
must come larger crops. We hope the time is not far dis- 
13* 



298 ROOTS HELP THE INCREASE OF OTHER CROPS. 

tant when the State returns will not shame the farmers of 
Massachusetts, by reporting the average product of hay, 
at one ton per acre, and wheat at ten bushels, and corn 
at thirty-seven. The cultivation of roots must have a 
tendency to hasten the coming of this good time. 




CHAPTER XXXIII. 

CULTURE OF ROOTS. 

a brief lecture we have not space to go into 
the details of the cultivation of roots. We must 
^^53 content ourselves with giving general principles 
^^ and making suggestions. The three principal roots 
raised in this country for stock are beets, turnips and car- 
rots. Parsnips are also excellent, but their cultivation 
involves more labor, and the return is less. Of the three 
kinds named, we are inclined to put the beet first, not 
because it contains more nourishment than the Swedes 
turnip, but because our climate, certainly away from the 
coast, is more favorable to its production, and the crop is 
larger and more sure. In the moist, cool climate of Eng- 
land, and more particularly in Scotland, the turnip still 
maintains its supremacy ; but in our Avarm and dry sum- 
mers the mangold-wurzel is taking the lead. The beet 
has also the advantage of imparting no bad flavor to the 
milk and beef of the animals to Avliich it is fed, and 
another advantage still of keeping later in the spring. 

"What kind of roots we shall raise must be determined 
somewhat by the animals to which they are to be fed. So 
far as our experience goes, we prefer beets for cows and 
swine, turnips for fattening cattle, and carrots for horses. 
Dr. Loring (from whom we are always loth to dissent) 



300 .» THE BEET. 



1 



prefers turnips for horses; but when we have placed 
carrots and turnips together before horses, they have 
always chosen the carrots, and their instinct is a pretty 
sure test of what is most congenial to them. We have 
never known a horse to refuse to eat carrots, but we have 
had to teach them to love turnips. 

Of the varieties of the beet the mangold- wurzel stands 
at the head for feeding purposes. The sugar-beet is not 
so great a producer as the mangold, but as the latter is 
not fit for use till January, it is often advisable to sow 
sufficient sugar-beets for fall feeding. Swine eat them 
greedily, and fatten upon them quite rapidly. When 
beets are raised for family use, the mode of culture is 
very different from what it is when they are raised for 
stock. For the table we desire a small beet, full of su- 
gar, and to secure such they must be cultivated on a 
sandy soil, not highly enriched. For making sugar, the 
French manufacturers pay a thu^d more for beets grown 
on such a soil than for those raised on stronger land 
richly manured, and they often cut off the part that 
protrudes out of the earth, which they feed directly to 
stock, reserving only the lower portion for manufacture 
into sugar. Of course, beets raised for the family can 
groAv in close proximity. When they are raised for 
stock, the stronger the soil the better, and they must 
have elbow room. They are gross feeders, and there is 
no danger of the land being too highly manured. Both 
nitrogenous and sahne manure are requisite for a large 
crop. 

The analysis of the ash of the mangold gives, besides 
other salts in less proportion, 23.54 per cent, of potash, 
19.08 of soda, and 24.54 of common salt. The ash of the 
leaf gives a still larger per cent, of salt. An average crop 



VALUE OF THE LEAVES. 301 

of 20 tons of mangolds will carry from the soil 80 pounds 
of potash, 60 of soda and over 100 of common salt, beside 
what is carried off in the leaves. The inference from this 
anatysis is that mangolds must be grown in rich clay loam, 
for a sandy soil seldom contains much soluble saline mat- 
ter, and that wood ashes, with common salt added, should 
constitute a part of the enriching material. Another in- 
ference is that the leaves must not be discarded as worth- 
less. They make most excellent food. If left to perish 
on the land, their saline matter is, indeed, returned to the 
soil, but it is far more economical, that the stock should 
derive the first benefit from them. 

Farmers have been slow to appreciate the value of 
leaves, either as food or as manure. They are always 
rich in phosphates, and the animals that feed on leaves 
never want material to make a large frame. The moose, 
that formerly browsed in the forests of New England, 
supported a large amount of bones, and in the Museum 
of Comparative Zoology at Cambridge may be seen the 
mammoth skeleton of ihe mastodon, an animal that evi- 
dently subsisted on the leaves and branches of trees, and 
his jaws and teeth were evidently designed to crush and 
grind some woody fiber in connection with the more 
tender shoots. 

The ash of the straw of all kinds of grain is richer in 
saline matter than is the grain itself, and the conclusion is 
evident, that growing stock, whose frame-work we desire 
to build up, should be fed with grasses and roots, never 
neglecting the root tops. Mangold leaves are greatly 
relished by milch cows, and they give increased richness 
to the cream. By carefully conducted experiments at the 
Albert Institution in Ireland, in 1857, it was found that 40 
quarts of milk, produced from rye grass alone, gave three 



302 VARIETIES OF MANGOLD. 

pounds and five ounces of butter ; produced from mangold 
leaves and pasture, the same amount of milk gave three 
pounds fourteen ounces of butter, and from mangold leaves 
alone the yield of butter was four pounds. 

Very similar results will follow the feeding of the leaves 
of cabbages and all the roots. The testimony of all 
farmers, who have been induced to experiment upon feed- 
ing the leaves, is united upon their great nutrition, and 
science exactly accords with this practical testimony. 
Boussingault gives us an analysis of the roots and leaves 
of mangolds, and, while the root gives only 1.66 per 
cent, of nitrogenous or muscle-forming mattei, the leaves 
give 4.5 per cent. For making bones the advantage is 
still greater with the leaves. They must not, however, 
be picked from the plant till they have accomplished 
their special and valuable functions. They serve so good 
a purpose in feeding, that the temptation is (particularly 
in the case of cabbages) to strip off the leaves prema- 
turely, and thus deprive the j)lant of its lungs and kill it 
with consumption. When the leaves begin to droop and 
turn yellow, which generally occurs in the latter part of 
September, they may be removed without damage. 

There are many varieties of mangolds, as there are of 
all our cultivated crops, produced by artificial or natural 
hybridization, but they may be reduced to these six : The 
long red, the long yellow, the long orange, and the red, 
yellow and orange globe. Which of these varieties should 
be cultivated will depend somewhat on the character 
of the soil. If this is a deep, strong clay loam, or of 
a peaty nature, the long varieties will give the greatest 
return ; but if it is shallow and sand predominates, the 
globes are preferred. The globes also have the advantage 
of containing the greatest amount of matter, with the 



IMPORTANCE OF GOOD SEED. 303 

least surface for evaporation and injury, so that they keep 
later in the spring ; but Mr. Birnie of Springfield, who is 
the most extensive feeder of mangolds in the country 
with whom we are acquainted, assures us that his long 
reds uniformly keep well till the first of June, which is 
as late as we wish to keep any roots. 

The variety is not of so much importance as the seed. 
We are satisfied that more root crops have failed from 
the want of good seed than from any other cause. The 
temptation is great to seed-growers to use their old stocks, 
and to save the seed from all the umbels, the late and 
dwarfed as well as the early and plump. We do not sup- 
pose the seed-growers and the seed merchants are sinners 
above all other men, but there have been some cases of 
gross ignorance or carelessness or cheating (call it by which 
name you think is right) in these trades, which have re- 
sulted in great loss to the farming community. We were 
called upon once to act as umpire between a large num- 
ber of farmers and the seedman from whom they had 
purchased Swedes turnip seed, the product from which 
all ran to tops, producing no roots worth harvesting. On 
investigating the case we found the seed-raiser had a field 
of Swedes turnips, which by some inherited defect or some 
sport of nature (probably the former, as nature does her 
work generally in earnest), proved to be an annual and 
produced seed the first year. 

Not being willing to lose all his labor, he carefully 
saved this seed for sale, and reaped, as he supposed, a 
good harvest. This was profitable to the seed-raiser, but 
was destructive to all the purchasers of the seed, as not 
one in a thousand produced a decent root. As might 
have been expected, all ran to tops, which, however good 
for fall feeding, left nothing for winter use, and the calam- 



304 IMPORTANCE OF GOOD SEED. 

ity which should have been confined to a single field was 
unwittingly spread over a hundred. 

We can not expect to raise good mangolds, or good 
roots of any kind, without good seed. The law that 
j)lants should produce seed after their kind, was promul- 
gated in Eden, and time has only served to show its abso- 
lute certainty. We are more and more convinced with 
every year's experience that there is such a thing as 
thorough-bred seed, and to secure it we must take the 
same pains that we do to secure thorough-bred stock, 
propagating only from the most perfect plants and not 
allowing these choice specimens to produce a multitude 
of umbels, but by picking off the lateral shoots, to com- 
pel the roots to throw all their nourishment into the per- 
pendicular and most vigorous stocks. By so doing, we 
get a small quantity of seed, but what we do get is large 
and plump, and well calculated to give the succeeding 
plant a good start in the world. 

The seed can not, however, be called thorough-bred, 
till this process has been continued for a succession of 
generations, and its character firmly established. It is 
by this careful propagation that our friend Gregory, at 
Marblehead, has succeeded in establishing the reputation 
of his mammoth cabbages. When the character of a 
seed is once firmly established, there is danger that by a 
little carelessness it may be lost. Perpetual vigilance is 
the price of character for men and seeds. 

Next to the importance of selecting good seed in rais- 
ing mangolds and other roots, is the necessity of a thor- 
ough preparation of the soil by deep tillage and liberal 
manuring. Mangolds are peculiarly a root for good, 
strong clay loam, but they will groAv almost anywhere if 
the soil is enriched, made deep, and thoroughly pulver- 




ArPEOPEIATE MANUKES. 805 

ized. We have known good crops raised on greensward, 
plowed the previous autumn, but their natural place in 
the rotation is after corn or potatoes ; and the field in- 
tended for them should be plowed in the fall either with 
a subsoil plow or one with a trench attachment which 
loosens the subsoil, but does not bring it to the surface, 
and the land should be thrown over with a rough furrow, 
leaving as much surface as possible for the ameliorating 
influence of the winter's frosts, snows and winds. 

When dry land appears in the spring, the field should 
be thoroughly harrowed with Share's coulter harrow, and 
again plowed, running the plow crosswise with the fur- 
rows of the previous autumn, when the harrow must be 
kept in motion till the requisite degree of pulverization 
is obtained. The seed should be sown in drills, 30 inches 
apart, and should be put into the ground early in May, 
immediately after the soil has been freshly stirred, that it 
may receive the benefit of a moist surface and of the 
spring rains. It is important that the plant should re- 
ceive no check in the early stages of its growth. A 
stunted plant recuperates as slowly as does a stunted 
animal. At least six pounds of seed will be required to 
the acre, as it is easier to eradicate the superfluous plants 
than to transpose them. The most vigorous plants must 
be selected for maturing, and from eight to ten inches 
space be left between them, and be sure to remember 
Cato's third maxim in agriculture, " Keep down the 
weeds." 

Cato's second maxim also, "Manure liberally," must 
not be forgotten. As to the kind of manure we are not 
so particular as in the quantity. There is no doubt, how- 
ever, that all the root crops affect a mineral soil. Their 
saline constituents are abundant and must be derived 



306 GATHERING THE CROP. 

from the soil. The taste of common salt can be distinctly 
discerned in the leaf of the mangold, and an application 
of six or eight bushels of salt to the acre will be found 
highly beneficial to this crop. Any refuse salt will an- 
swer the purpose. Our practice has been to secure the 
refuse fish and pork brine from the grocers, which costs 
nothing but the cartage, and add it to the compost heap. 
We decidedly prefer composted manure for roots. It is 
finer and more available for the nutrition of the plants, 
and we do not care to have it buried more deeply than 
can be done bv the coulter harrow. 

Barn-yard manure of course contains all the elements 
of food which roots require, and is especially well adapted 
for growing them, if the stock has been fed with roots. 
Still, as much of the phosphate of lime and other saline 
matter which roots contain, has gone for the formation of 
milk, muscle and bone, and does not come back to the 
soil in the manure, it will be found advisable to drill in with 
the seed a little guano or phosphate mixed with plaster. 
Two or three hundred pounds of this compound per acre 
will be found good economy, even when the land is 
otherwise well enriched. It gives the plants a good 
start, and a good beginning is usually followed by a good 
end. 

Mangolds must be housed in this latitude by the middle 
of October, certainly before the frosts are so severe as to 
stiffen the earth. They will not endure the cold as well 
as turnips and carrots. A dry day should be selected for 
harvesting. They should be pulled in the morijing; the 
leaves that have not already been fed can be easily 
wrenched off by the hand, which is better surgical prac- 
tice than making an ugly wound with a knife ; and in the 
afternoon of the same day they can be carefully stored in 



GATHERING THE CEOP. 307 

the root cellar. We say carefully, for they are too often 
handled as though they were stones — things without life. 
Every bruise that is made upon them breaks the cellular 
texture and increases the tendency to decay. We have 
learned to handle apples carefully. Most of us have yet 
to learn that roots are delicate in their structure, as well 
as fruit. We have seen them rapped violently together to 
knock off the loose dirt, and then the farmer complains 
that his roots do not keep well. The truth is the life was 
knocked out of them by the hard bumps. Mangolds do 
not mature before January. When first pulled they con- 
tain a j)eculiar acrid principle which is too relaxing for 
animals, but which entirely disappears in the course of 
two or three months. In January they are found to con- 
tain less pectine and starch and more sugar, a chemical ac- 
tion having taken place which converted these substances 
into sugar. 

We have devoted so much time to the mangolds that 
we must pass over turnips and carrots hastily. The pre- 
paration of the ground for these roots is much the same 
as for beets. Turnips require a lighter soil, may be sown, 
late in the season, and may remain in the ground till No- 
vember. Of all the varieties of the turnip, the brassica 
campestris, originally brought from Sweden to England 
about a century since, stands at the head for feeding pur- 
poses, being harder than the brassica rapa, which is a na- 
tive of England, possessing more nutritious properties, 
and retaining its juices and chemical composition un- 
changed till late in the spring. The Swedish turnip has 
a specific gravity of twenty to twenty-five per cent, 
more than the English turnip, and contains a much larger 
quantity, weight for weight, of sugar. It bears the vicis- 
situdes of the weather and rough handling with great 



308 SWEDISH TURNIP. 

hardiness, and when bruised or bitten by cattle or mice, 
secretes a kind of temporary cuticle which keeps out the 
air and thus prevents decay. 

Swedish turnips need no praise. We are willing to 
concede that, for feeding to most kinds of stock, they 
stand at the head of the roots ; still we have not been so 
uniformly successful in raising them as we have been with 
beets and carrots. A small black beetle, — haltica ne- 
morum, — attacks them in the seed-leaf, and if they 
escape this pest, they are inclined of late years to run up 
long-necked and with comparativel}^ small bulbs. Possi- 
bly the difficulty is in the seed, but we took great pains, 
two years since, to get imported seed of the variety in- 
troduced by William Skirving of Liverpool, which has 
the sounding name of ''King of the Swedes," but our 
success was no better than with seed of home production. 
We understand that in the eastern part of the State little 
if any such trouble is experienced, and what the difficulty 
is with us in the western part of the State we are not yet 
prepared to say. We are inclined, however, to attribute 
the defect to the careless mode of propagating seed, as 
some years they still do well with us. The turnip is a 
biennial, but shows a tendency in accelerating circum- 
stances to complete its cycle of development in one year. 
This can be remedied in a measure by sowing late in the 
season, and by a careful selection of the roots from which 
seed are to be raised. The long, crane-necked bulbs must 
be entirely rejected from the seed-bed. 

With the common English turnip we are as sure of a 
crop as we are of a crop of beets or carrots, and raise 
them abundantly with little labor, and find them excellent 
both for the table and for stock till about the first of 
March, when the sugar and starch begin to be converted 



THE ENGLISH TUKNIP. 309 

into woody fibre. Our plan is to sow them in the 
latter part of July, on land from which early potatoes 
and peas have been taken, first plowing and top-dressing 
with compost, always preferring that in which there are 
night-soil and leached ashes. We sow the seed broadcast, 
and if just before a shower, do not care to brush it in, and 
have no further trouble with the crop except to harvest it 
in the latter part of October. We thus secure four or 
five hundred bushels of turnips to the acre, which are 
quite a supplement to the potatoes. The variety that we 
prefer for this speedy growth is the strap-leaved red top. 

We also find it an excellent plan, to turn over after 
haying a piece of greensward, on which the grass needs 
renewing, and top-dress it in the same manner, and sow 
turnips in connection with grass seed. The land requires 
to be thoroughly harrowed, incorjDorating the manure 
with the soil, and rendering the whole mellow. When a 
rich and mellow bed for the seed is furnished, the turnips 
grow luxuriantly and seem to interfere but slightly with 
the growth of the grass, which the next summer turns 
out large swaths. This plan of sowing turnips and grass 
seed together in the latter part of July has the additional 
recommendation of enabling us to plow some low, moist 
land at this season, which we are unable to do in the 
spring, and renewing the grass without the intervention 
of a hoed crop. 

One word for our friends the carrots. They have 
always stuck by us, and we will not desert them in this 
extremity of time. They are a healthy, nutritious crop, 
requiring tender nursing in their youth, but fully compen- 
sating for this in the rich milk they give the children, 
and the sleek, healthy coat they furnish the horses. The 
pectic acid they furnish seems peculiarly well adapted for 



810 THE CARROT CROP. 

the horse, and this noble anhnal should have a Sunday 
dinner at least of carrots, so long as he is fed on dry hay 
and grain. We prefer the long orange. We have sown 
them side by side with the famous white Belgian, and the 
yield of the orange is certainly larger, and we fancy it is a 
richer root, but of this we have never made or seen any 
accurate tests. The land for carrots should be either 
trench-plowed or subsoiled, that there may be no impedi- 
ment to the downward course of its spindle root. It 
loves a deep, dry, rich sand loam, and is sure of amply 
rewarding: the labors of him who sows in such a soil. The 
drills need not be over 18 inches apart, and the carrots 
should be two or three inches apart in the drills. Eight 
hundred bushels to the acre is a good yield, and 1000 can 
be raised. We can not recommend carrots as a substitute 
for grain for working horses. We only advise giving car- 
rots as a complement to grain for such horses ; but if any 
one has horses standing idle dur}ng the winter, hay and 
carrots are far more healthy thar^ hay and grain, or hay 
alone. 

In conclusion, we will sq,y that whoever 'desires to be a 
radical farmer, to stir his soil from the foundations and 
raise the maximum of produce, which shall sustain the 
maximum of cattle that will give the maximum of ma- 
nure, will raise roots. By no other mode of culture can 
New England be made to sustain so dense fi population. 



LECTURE ELEYENTH. 



I 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

FRUIT. 



1) SERIES of lectures on agriculture would not be 
1 complete, were the subject of fruits omitted. No 
^i^^ farm is well equipped without its apple and pear 
'-^^'^ orchard, and no farmer's garden should be with- 
out its sunny and sheltered nook for grapes, and its deep, 
well enriched, nicely cared for bed of strawberries. Fruit 
is not a mere condiment and luxury, only to be indulged 
in by the rich. The desire for it is implanted deeply in 
our natures, and God has given us no desire without some 
legitimate purpose and a corresponding object for its grati- 
fication. When we are surrounded daily by fruit and can 
partake of it when we please, we have no idea of the 
intensity of the craving for the high-flavored, refreshing, 
health-giving juices that fruit furnishes. We must leave 
the family orchard and the home cellar, and go into a 
strict boarding-school, if we would know the strength of 
our desire for fruit. We have seen boys at such a school 
pick up the cores of apples thrown away by the teachers, 
and devour them as choice morsels ; and when we have 
found ragged i;rchins clubbing our trees, as soon as the 



312 NATUEAL TASTE FOR FKUIT. 

fruit by its tinge of yellow showed signs of maturity, our 
indignation at the theft has been much tempered by our 
knowledge of the great temptation that the sight of the 
luscious apples must furnish the ill-fod and ignorant boys. 
It is the same temptation that led our Mother Eve to par- 
take of the forbidden fruit, and resulted in the downfall 
of the race. From the days of Eden till now the chil- 
dren's teeth have ever been set with a keen edge for fruit. 
As we see our neighbor eating a beautiful peach, the saliva 
of our mouth spontaneously secretes for the digestion of 
a similar one. In tropical countries fruit is the main-stay 
of life, but in our cold climates, we need some more 
oleaginous and nitrogenous diet to keep us warm and 
furnish muscle for active exertion; but even here we re- 
quire some fruit to keep our bodily functions in health. 
We would like an apple to eat each day in the year, and 
always feel better when we have one, and the pleasure is 
at least doubled when the apple is one of our own pro- 
duction. 

This leads us to say that the delights incident to fruit 
culture always pay, even when the market furnishes no 
return in dollars and cents. Who, but the horticulturist, 
knows the pleasure there is in planting trees, observing 
their growth, and watching the expanding buds, the beau- 
tiful blossoms, and the swelling fruit ? A peach from your 
own trees is worth half a dozen from New Jersey, not in- 
trinsically, perhaps, but none the less really. It is price- 
less, not because money can not buy many such, but this 
is the product of your own culture, and jow look upon it 
with a fatherly pride. Then the pleasure of sharing the 
products of the orchard or garden with our neighbors and 
friends, is one of the most exquisite we can enjoy. Few 
gifts are received wdth more grace than is fruit, and the 



CHILDHOOD KEMINISCENCES. 313 

pleasure of giving it is so great that we can hardly afford 
to sell it. 

The orchard also makes home delightful. Some of the 
pleasantest associations of our childhood are with the ap- 
ple orchard. The trees were all seedlings and the fruit 
none of the best, but we thought it was good, and this 
answered all purposes. Each child, as it came to years 
of discretion, was expected to pick out a tree as his or 
her peculiar property, and as we happened to be the 
eleventh child, we had rather poor picking ; but as we 
shared each other's joys, so we shared each other's fruits, 
and fruit culture tolerates no jealousy. Here we made 
cider in the sunny days of August, long before the regu- 
lar mill creaked and the press burst forth with the sweet 
juice, by making an excavation in the lime rock which 
served both for grinding and pressing. When the autumn 
days came, and the apples were to be housed, or carried 
to mill, we were busy as so many squirrels, and gathering 
the fruit seemed to us but play. We were not very par- 
ticular about picking the fruit, and when we consider the 
shakings and whippings the poor trees received, we won- 
der they condescended to bear any more. The long poles 
striking among the branches must have made sad havoc 
among the tender buds, but,'without malice or complaint, 
they bore the next year just as well, and we do not re- 
member a year of scarcity. 

The curculio, the bark-louse, and the borer, troubled 
us not. If they were in existence, we lived in blessed 
ignorance of them. 

Then came the ride to the cider-mill, perched high on 

a load of apples and barrels ; and the long draughts of 

sweet must through rye straws. We never stopped to 

consider what a villainous compound it mighjt be of rotten 

14 



314 BEAUTY AND POETRY OF FRUIT CULTURE. 



1 



apples and worm juice. It was sweet, and therefore 
must be good. The paring-bees, also, can never be for- 
gotten, when we all assembled around the kitchen fire, 
and one used tlie paring-machine while the rest of us 
quartered, cored, strung and hung the apples around the 
room for drjdng. We might extend this picture further, 
and tell of the mug of cider and the dish of apples that 
were brought up from the cellar of a winter's evening as 
a neighbor called in for a friendly chat, but as cider is a 
tabooed article, now-a-days, we'll draw a veil over this 
social scene. We have said enough to show that the 
orchard adds vastly to the home pleasures, and whatever 
contributes to make a pleasant home is worthy of the 
attention of the farmer. 

There is more beauty and poetry about farm life than 
some have imagined. It is not all utilitarian, as too many 
are inclined to make it. 

" There's beauty all around our paths if but our watchful eyes 
Can trace it, mid familiar things and through their lowly guise." 

And there is no occupation which brings us in contact 
with so many of the beauties of nature as does that of the 
farmer. He treads carelessly every vernal day on flowers, 
the sight and fragrance of which would put the city lady 
in raptures. What sight more beautiful than that of an 
apple orchard in full bloom? Nature, in her luxuriant 
providence for producing fruit after its kind, furnishes ten 
and sometimes a hundred fold more blossoms than are re- 
quisite for maturing the fruit, and hence an apple-tree in 
the blossoming season is a magnificent bouquet of flowers. 
If the sight were not so common, it would fill us with ad- 
miration and delight. We lately saw a beautiful painting 
of a cluster of apple blossoms, which elicited the admira- 



IS FRUIT RAISING PROFITABLE? 315 

tion of a country lady, and evoked the question, " What 
beautiful flowers are those ? " When told, she replied, " Is 
it possible ? Are they nothing but apple blossoms ? " If 
she had been told that they were the flowers of an exotic 
plant from western Asia, called by botanists pyrus malus, 
her admiration instead of subsiding would probably have 
increased, and she might have ordered a plant from some 
greenhouse to adorn her parterre. The poetry of farm 
life lies mainly in horticulture, and we would like to see 
our farmers turning their attention more in this direction. 
It was in a garden, and surrounded by fruits, that our first 
parents lived while in a state of innocence. These were 
paradisian days, and if we wish to have paradise restored, 
we must give more attention to horticulture. 

But we do not advocate the culture of fruit merely be- 
cause fruit is healthy, and a pleasant thing to have and 
give away, and adds additional charms to home and life. 
If we stopped here we should expect the utilitarian to 
say, " This is all true, but I can't live on health, beauty 
and pleasure. I must raise something that will pay my 
taxes." The question of profit is a legitimate one, and 
deserves candid consideration, and we will answer it, 
Yankee fashion, by asking another. By what crop can 
we raise so much money value from an acre of land as by 
strawberries, apples, pears ; and, where the soil and cli- 
mate favor, by grapes and peaches ? It is to be regretted 
that our census returns are not sufficiently distinct and 
accurate for us to ascertain the relative value of the pro- 
ductions of our orchards and gardens, as compared with 
our common field crops, but the records kept and reported 
by individuals leave no room for doubt on this point. 
Many of our strawberry cultivators announce their gross 
receipts from an acre as varying from fljQOO to $1,200, 



816 THE APPLE CROP. 

A neighbor of ours, who is too infirm to perform the 
arduous labors of the farm, turned his attention a few 
years since to the cultivation of strawberries, and reports 
that he has raised some years, at the rate of 3,600 quarts 
per acre, and that his selling price, as he retails them 
himself, has never been less than 25 cents per quart, and 
sometimes is 40 cents. This gives, calling the mean price 
30 cents, |1,080 per acre, a return which the tobacco pro- 
ducers have never equaled, though tobacco is considered 
par excellence the money crop. Some of the grape grow- 
ers report a return of $3,000 ]Der acre, and the pear grow- 
ers run up into still higher figures. A thousand bushels 
of apples, worth at least $1,000, have been reported as 
the product of an acre. 

These, it may be said, are isolated and extreme cases, 
and this is granted; but still they prove what returns 
fruit may be made to give, under skillful management and 
in favored localities, and what man has done man may do. 
Take a more common case. A neighbor of ours, who man- 
ages a large farm, and gives comparatively little attention to 
his orchard, using it for most of the season as a pig pasture 
(b}^ the way, one of the most economical and successful 
modes of cultivating an orchard), assures us that he realizes 
a net income from his apples equivalent to the interest of 
$2,000 per acre. This is not bad interest for an acre of 
land to pay. Corn can not do as well as this, and tobacco 
can seldom do better. 

We have watched with some interest the returns of a 
young apple orchard of 300 trees, which we set out some 
16 years since. For most of the time we have kept the 
orchard in grass, mowing it twice in each season, which 
we were enabled to do by a liberal annual top-dressing. 
For the last six or eight years we have thus been enabled 



DANGER OF OVER-STOCKING THE MARKET. 317 

from this land to secure four crops annually: first, a 
growth of trees ; second, two crops of grass ; third, a crop 
of apples, which last year amounted to a thousand bushels. 
We do not know where the investment of $1,000 would 
yield a better return than in an acre of such land, stocked 
with apple-trees. 

The little town of Marlboro, on the Hudson River, has 
for the last 25 years given its attention to the cultivation 
of Antwerp raspberries for the New York market, for 
which its slaty, dry soil is peculiarly well adapted ; and 
from the monthly report of the Commissioner of Agricul- 
ture for January, 1869, we learn that the gross receipts 
of this town from this fruit alone are annually |300,000, 
and that an acre of Antwerps, in full bearing, is valued at 
$1,000 ; and that, since the introduction of the culture of 
raspberries into Marlboro, the price of real estate has ad- 
vanced at least one-half. 

Fruit-growers will be encouraged to know that, by the 
United States census of 1860, the value of orchard pro- 
ducts in the Avhole country was in that year nearly 
$20,000,000, of which New York produced nearly three 
and three-quarter millions. Massachusetts, in 1865, a very 
dry and unfavorable year for the production of apples, 
returned by the state census a production of $1,257,477 
worth of this fruit. The value of the pears raised in 
this state the same year was $240,338. In the produc- 
tion of apples, Middlesex is the banner county, furnish- 
ing one-fourth of the valuation of the whole state. In 
the number of pear-trees, Middlesex also takes the lead, 
but in the cash value of the fruit Norfolk stands at the 
head. 

It has been feared by some that the great increase of 
orchards would glut the market with fruit, but the increased 



318 PLANTING FKUIT TREES A DUTY. 

supply has not kept up with the increased demand. Some 
of the small and quickly perishing fruits may occasionally 
be found in the market in excess. In this case the remedy 
is to can them, and canned strawberries, blackberries and 
peaches are not bad to take in January. In the case of 
apples and pears, whose natural life is longer, a compari- 
son of the prices for the last fifty years will show a con- 
stant increase in their value, notwithstanding the great 
multiplication of orchards. We well remember the time 
when the highest price paid for the best of the seedling 
apples was 25 cents per bushel, and 30 to 40 cents per 
bushel for grafted fruit was considered a high price. 

Cider, in our boyhood, was sold at from fifty cents to a 
dollar per barrel, and the cider manufacturer was not par- 
ticular if the barrel held forty gallons. We have lived 
to see cider sold by the gallon for as much as a whole 
barrel cost forty years since, and the refuse cider apples 
now command nearly twice as much as the best grafted 
fruit was once valued at. Two causes can be assigned 
for this enhanced and enhancing value of fruit. First, 
the great increase of fruit-consuming population ; and 
second, the increased facilities for reaching market. 
Though fruit is one of the leading staples of our farm, 
we have no jealousy of our neighbor who plants an or- 
chard. The more orchards we have around us, the better 
are we pleased, for the purchaser from New York or Bos- 
ton, who comes to see our neighbor's fruit, will also have 
an opportunity to see and purchase ours. 

The past summer was an unusually good season for 
apples in Massachusetts, but we never knew the market 
more brisk. We sold 1000 bushels directly from the 
orchard, and could have sold 1000 bushels more without 
leaving our own premises. 



HIGH PRICE OF PEARS. 319 

It is barely possible tliat apples may be produced in such 
quantities in the next fifty years as to overstock the 
market, but the history of the past fifty years does not 
warrant any fear of such a result. We more fear that the 
supply will not keep pace with the demand. It takes 
from ten to fifteen years to bring an apple orchard into good 
bearing condition, and this seems a slow turning of the 
penny to most farmers, and deters them from planting 
trees. They seem to have a fear that they shall not live 
to realize the results, and forget if they do not live, their 
children will. Such a selfish view is unworthy of the 
Christian. A heathen poet, before the advent of Christ, 
said, '^ Graft the tender shoot; thy children's children 
shall enjoy the fruit." We wish such narrow-minded 
farmers could be imbued with more of the spirit of Sir 
Walter Scott, Avho, when setting out a tree in his old age, 
was reminded that he might not live to eat its fruit, and 
replied: ''Were I to die to-morrow, I would plant a tree 
to-day." By planting fruit trees we are only paying to 
posterity the debt we owe our fathers. 

The increase in the market value of pears is greater 
than in the case of apples. Two dollars per bushel for 
Virgalieu, the choicest pear of our childhood, was con- 
sidered an extravagant price. Whoever now buys a 
Beurre d' Anjou or a Duchess d' Angouleme has to balance 
the weight of the pear with nickel, and all the choicest 
varieties taste so strong of silver, that a prudent man 
thinks twice before he purchases. Though pear-trees bear 
at an earlier age than apples, and are less subject to the 
attacks of insects and disease, still the demand is far 
ahead of the supply, and is likely to be for a long time 
to come. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

I 

feHE subject of fruit is too extensive to be embraced 
(«S ^^ ^^^ lecture, which is all the space we have for || 
^^,,^ it, and we will therefore confine our remarks to l{ 
"^W^ the apple, which is the standard fruit of New Eng- 
land, and in the cultivation of which we have had the 
most experience. The word apple is of Celtic origin, and 
is derived from abhal, meaning a round fruit. The Celtic 
root is ball, meaning simply a round body, so that our 
modern word apple originally included pears, peaches, 
oranges and all round fruits. It is doubtless in this ge- 
neric sense the word is used by the translators of the Bible, 
and we are by no means sure whether it was an apple, or 
a peach, or an orange, that tempted Eve in the garden of 
Eden, and comforted Solomon among the hills of Judea. 

The modern cultivated apple, the pyrus mains, had its 
home in southern Europe and western Asia, where from 
time immemorial it has been found growing wild under 
the common name of crab apple. The American crab, 
pyrus coronaria, though improved somewhat by cultiva- 
tion, has never been much elevated from its inferior normal 
state. The Siberian crab, pyrus baccata, shows more 
tendency to sport and has a wide range of latitude in 
which it grows, being found as far north as Lake Baikal, 
where it grows three or four feet high, with a trunk three 



THE NEAY ENGLAND APPLE. 321 

or four inches in diameter, and producing fruit of the size 
of peas. 

In Oregon is found a native crab, pyrus rivularis, 
much resembling the Siberian in its habits, which grows 
to the hight sometimes of 25 feet, and produces a pleasant, 
sub-acid fruit of the size of a cherry. Very early in the 
history of horticulture, the pyrus malus attracted atten- 
tion by its tendency to sport and its capability of imj)rove- 
ment under cultivation, and at the present day no fruit is 
so generally diffused over the earth, yields so bountifully, 
keeps so well, is adapted to so many purposes, and is so 
generally and highly valued. 

In New England, where the climate forbids the culti- 
vation, except under glass, of the semi-tropical fruits, the 
apple must ever constitute the leading object of attention 
with the horticulturist. This is the less to be regretted as 
by cultivating suitable varieties we can have apples fit 
for the dessert of a king, from the beginning to the end 
of the year. The juice of the refuse apples furnishes a 
beverage which, when properly manufactured, is little if 
any inferior in aroma to that made from the grape, and in 
healthfulness we are inclined to think far superior. In 
cooking, no fruit can compare with the apple. For the 
dessert we may prefer a melting pear, a luscious peach, or 
an aromatic grape, but for puddings, pies, tarts and jellies, 
the apple is indispensable. 

We must make the most of this leading fruit, this good 
gift which Providence has assigned us, and we are confi- 
dent that nowhere in the wide world does the apple attain 
a higher flavor than in the strong soil of some of the 
sunny slopes of New England. The v\^estern apples are 
generally larger and fixirer than those of the Eastern 
States, but they do not possess so high a flavor nor make 
14* 



322 GRAFTING FHUIT. 

SO good pies and cider. When our fathers first came to 
New England they brought with them apple seeds to start 
their nurseries and orchards, but very little attention was 
paid for many years to the grafting of choice varieties. 
They were too much occupied with the cares of church 
and state, and securing a livelihood for their families, to 
devote much time to the niceties of horticulture, and the 
consequence was that not one seedling in ten produced 
good fruit, and not one in a hundred proved first-rate. 

Grafting is, however, not a modern art. It was prac- 
ticed long before the Christian era, and the grafting of 
olives and grapes is alluded to in the New Testament. 
Pliny mentions 29 kinds of apples that were grown in 
Italy in his day, and says, " Our list of apples will immor- 
talize the names of their first grafters, — such as Manlius, 
Certius and Claudius." 

Ai)pius first grafted the quince on the apple stock, and 
the quinces thus grown were called Appiana. Both Pliny 
and Virgil speak of the trees of their time being grafted 
with all manner of fruits and nuts, and the boys in our 
high schools are inclined to smile at Virgil's poetic license, 
when he speaks of the same tree producing fruits, nuts 
and berries, as we have been educated in the belief that 
there is a limited range of affinity between the scion and 
stock, but some of the French horticulturists have 
reproduced, by what they call charlatan grafting, these 
phenomena of the old Romans. 

CoBsar, in his conquest of Gaul and Britain, doubtless 
carried to these countries, among other Roman blessings, 
that of good fruit ; but if he did, the blessing was pretty 
much banished from England upon the conquest of that 
country by the Saxons, and was not restored till the 
fifteenth century. 



ORIGIN OF APPLES. 323 

Pippins were first introduced into England in the reign 
of Henry VIII. The Ribston Pippin, which the EngUsh- 
man esteems the best apple grown on the island, origina- 
ted in Ribston Park, Yorkshire, from the seeds of an apple 
brought from France. In 1597, John Gerard, in his His- 
tory of Plants, mentions seven kinds of pippins, and thus 
exhorts his countrymen to plant orchards : " Gentlemen 
that have land, plant, graft and nourish trees in every 
corner of your ground ; the labor is small, the commodity 
is great ; yourselves shall have plenty, the poor shall have 
somewhat to relieve their necessity, and God shall reward 
your good mind and diligence." 

Our fathers brought over from England and the conti- 
nent a few of the grafted trees of the old country, but 
they have never done as well in America as the native 
seedlings. The Ribston Pippin, which ranks among the 
other apples of Great Britain as the bills of the bank 
of England among those of other banks, is not considered 
a superior fruit here, and the Spanish Reinette, which is 
the national apple of Spain, and to which we are indebted 
for the parentage of our Fall pippin, falls far below its 
native American descendant. 

Although we have not given that attention in this 
country to the cultivation of new varieties, which the 
importance of the subject demands, and most of our best 
apples are chance seedlings ; still, so favorable are our 
climate and soil for the production of this fruit, that 
American apples command in European markets double 
the price of those of native growth, and our Newtown 
Pippins, Esopus Spitzenbergs, Rhode Island Greenings, 
Massachusetts Baldwins, and Northern Spys, not to men- 
tion a host of others, are sure of finding sale abroad, if 
our home market ever becomes overstocked. 



324 IMPROVEMENT IN FRUIT. 

The apple is peculiarly a plant of culture, and suscepti- 
ble of great improvement, and among the pleasures of 
horticulture there is none greater than that of producing 
new and choice varieties. In the wild state, every genus 
of trees has a number of species. Thus, we have a num- 
ber of varieties of elm, and each variety in its natural 
state exactly reproduces itself. But with our cultivated 
trees, especially those designed for the production of 
fruit, the case is very different. These all show a culture 
which removes them from a state of nature, just as man 
himself is removed from a state of barbarism. Civiliza- 
tion does for the fruits what it does for humanity, — refines, 
purifies, elevates. 

With this higher civilization, it must be confessed, come 
less physical strength, a greater variety of diseases, and 
more tendency to decay, both among men and the fruits. 

When once a variety of fruit has been removed from a 
natural into a cultured state, we have the means of con- 
tinuing the improvement indefinitely, for the fixed original 
habit being broken up, the new variety always shows a 
tendency to sport, or produce other varieties still farther 
removed from the original species. The seeds of our 
common wild cherry trees will invariably produce wild 
cherry trees of the same sort ; but the seeds of the Black 
Tartarian will sport, and the trees produced from them 
will perchance be of one sort and perchance of another ; 
and while the tendency is constantly backward to the nat- 
ural, wild state, one seed out of a hundred may possibly pro- 
duce a tree that will bear fruit superior to its parent. 
There are so many blanks in comparison with the prizes in 
this lottery, that most cultivators prefer to avail themselves 
of the experiments of others, and propagate from buds and 
scions of well-established and approved varieties. Few 



HYBKIDIZATION, OR CEOSSTKG OF PLANTS. 325 

have the means, patience and skill of Van Mons to sow 
seeds, year after year, carefully rear the trees, and find, 
after a life of devotion to the production of new varieties, 
only now and then one worthy of propagation. Van 
Mons began by sowing the seeds from a young seedling 
without much regard to its quality, provided it was in a 
state of variation and not a wild sort. Selecting from the 
young plants the most promising, he watched for their 
fruit, and was not discouraged by finding them of an in- 
ferior quality. The seeds of the best he sowed, and found 
the next generation coming more quickly into bearing and 
the fruit of a higher grade. In the fifth generation, he 
found pears fruiting in three years from the seed, and the 
fruit quite uniformly good, — so that the old couplet, 

lie that plants pears 
Plants for his heirs, 

is not true now-a-days. Apples, Van Mons found, were 
improved in less time than pears, four generations suffic- 
ing for the perfection of this fruit. 

It must be remembered that what the fruit gains, by 
this artificial culture, in size, flavor and tenderness, the 
tree is apt to lose in constitutional vigor. The thorns 
disappear, and the whole tree puts on the look of refined 
civilization; so that, in fruit-growing, regard must be had 
to the constitution of the tree, as well as the delicacy of 
the frurt. Van Mons started with the theory that we 
must subdue the vigor of the wild native in order to pro- 
duce the best fruits, and to this end he cut off the tap- 
roots of the trees he transplanted, and placed them in 
close contiguity in his orchard. To sow, resow, sow again 
and sow perpetually, he considered the great secret of im- 
proving fruit. In a state of nature, hardiness of the plant 
and the perfection of the seed seem to be the objects aimed 



326 LLMITATION OF EXISTENCE. 

at; but, in a state of culture, we desire early maturity 
and enlargement and refinement of the pulpy portion of 
the fruit, and it is possible, in the case of grapes and 
apples, to carry this refining culture so far that a well- 
developed fleshy pulp may be formed without any seeds 
being inclosed. 

Hybridization is a more expeditious mode of improving 
fruit than the sowing and resowing of seeds, as practiced 
by Van Mons. This is a modern art. Bacon, with his 
close observation of nature, seems to have had an idea of 
it when he says : " The compounding or mixing of plants 
is not found out ; which, nevertheless, if it be possible, is 
more at command than that of living creatures, for so you 
may have a great variety of new fruits and flowers. 
Grafting has not the power to make a new kind, for the 
scion ever overrule th the stock." This power of improv- 
ing varieties by crossing has been very successfully prac- 
ticed by Mr. Knight, president of the London horticul- 
tural society, and is largely resorted to by gardeners of the 
present day, more especially in multiplying the varieties 
of flowers. The great number of beautiful roses, fuchsias, 
verbenas and other flowering plants owe their origin to 
careful cross-breeding. The process is so well understood 
that it needs only to be alluded to. 

Mr. Knight also advocated the theory that all varieties 
of fruit had, like the individual, a certain limitation of 
existence, and would, after a time, run out, the period of 
their existence varying with the natural age of the tree 
from which they are derived. This theory has many facts 
and analogies to support it, and has been quite generally 
received among intelligent fruit-growers. The old Roman 
apples, which Pliny thought would immortalize the names 
of their originators, are no longer known, and Mr. Knight 



FAULT OF PROPAGATION. 327 

says: "The Redstreak and the Golden Pippm of Eng- 
land can no longer be cultivated with advantage. The 
fruit, like the parent tree, is affected by the debilitated 
old age of the variety." 

We know that in this country the Virgalieu pear can 
be no longer grown in Ncav England, and that certain va- 
rieties of potatoes have become so diseased as to be un- 
worthy of cultivation, and that some species of animals 
have become extinct. But, notwithstanding these facts, 
we see no reason for concluding that the life of a variety 
of apples, or of any fruit, must be limited to the natural 
life of the tree from which it was derived, or by any 
other limit of time. Some of the varieties of apples 
which were considered run out in England, have renewed 
their youth in this country. The Virgalieu pear still 
lives and flourishes in the Middle and Western States. 
Some varieties of potatoes have become diseased, and 
possibly extinct, because we have cultivated them so arti- 
ficially, and in such contravention of the laws of vegeta- 
ble physiology. The fact that the varieties of fruits and 
vegetables, which are considered obsolete in one portion 
of the country, still flourish in another portion, proves 
an uncongeniality of soil, or climate, or mode of culture, 
rather than a decay of the variety from old age. We 
can see no reason why the life of a tree may not be re- 
newed from its buds, as well as from its seeds, which are 
merely the buds perfected. The buds are annual, and 
contain germs of future trees, as well as the seeds, and if 
the tree can be reproduced without limit from its seeds, 
as both Scripture and fact warrant us in believing, why 
may not the buds have equal potency in perpetuating the 
species ? 

We are sorry to differ from so skillful pomologists as 



328 CONSTITUTIONAL VIGOR NECESSARY. 

Knight of England and Kenrick of this country, but we 
are more sorry to believe that any of our old favorite va- 
rieties of fruit must die of old age ; nor do we believe 
facts warrant the conclusion to which these eminent fruit 
culturists have come. The autumn Bergamot pear, Avhich 
is believed to be the same variety that was cultivated by 
the Romans in the days of Julius Csesar, nearly 2000 
years ago, still grows with vigor, and bears abundant 
crops of healthy fruit, while the Flemish Beauty and 
others of the modern pears, projDagated with the sacrifice 
of constitutional vigor, show as unmistakable signs of de- 
cay as does the Virgalieu. This early decay of varieties 
propagated in Van Mons' enfeebling method, the la- 
mented Downing prophesied would occur, and the fact 
verifies his close observation, and, we venture to prophesy 
a short career to the Rose potato, if its propagation is 
continued by successive sprouts from the sauie eye or bud. 
No eye was ever designed to f arnish more than one sprout, 
and to give this one a good start in the world, it needs the 
aid of the parent tuber or trunk. 

The character of fruit is, like the character of man, of 
the utmost importance, and nothing can compensate for 
its loss ; but unless it is accompanied and strengthened by 
a good constitution, it amounts to but little. The hardi- 
ness of any variety of apple dej)ends much upon the cir- 
cumstances of its origin. When a new variety springs 
accidentally from a healthy seed, in a natural manner, as 
fortunately most of our American apples have, we may 
expect great constitutional vigor; and when hybrids are 
produced artificially in Mr. Knight's method, regard should 
be had, not only to the character of the fruit, but the 
vigor of the trees. Though we do not believe varieties 
will ever die, when properly propagated from buds, and 



CHANCE SEEDLINGS. 329 

properly cultivated, still we have great faith in nature's 
common mode of propagation by seeds, and we have 
found the chance seedlings, growing wild by the side of 
fences, makmg good healthy stocks on which to graft. 
The fact that the seed has germinated and the tree has 
grown in these unfavorable circumstances, shows inherent 
vigor, a determination to push its own way through the 
world, while many of the nursery trees, grafted on small 
pieces of roots, are delicate in their constitution, and 
Avhen transplanted suffer in the change from hot-bed cul- 
ture into that of the open field. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

PROPER SITE FOR AN ORCHARD. 

JHIS leads us to say that, upon the selection of a 
^ site and the preparation of the soil for an orchard, | 
^^S much of the success of fruit-culture depends. In ■ 
^fe^ general it may be said that orchards should be well 
exposed to the sun, and at the same time protected from 
blighting frosts and winds. We prefer an elevated site, 
sloping to the south or east, where the sun may rejoice 
the apples in the morning, and give them high flavor and 
color. The sun is the great source of life and beauty on 
this earth, and plants welcome the morning light after 
their night's repose, just as men do, and delight in being 
on the sunny side of a hill, as ladies delight in living in 
the sunny side of the house, and the cheek of the one re- 
ceives its beauty from the sun equally with the cheek of 
the other. There is as much difference in the flavor of 
the two sides of an apple as in their color, and a benevo- 
lent husband, as he pares an apple, will always give his 
wife the sunny and high-flavored side, and Ave will add, 
for the benefit of such husbands, that the eye end of the 
apple contains more elaborated and refined juices than the 
stem end. 

One of the worst sites for an orchard is a narrow valley 
ill a mountainous country, with a brook Tunning through 
it, or springs oozing from the adjacent hills. In such a. 



EXPOSED AND BLEAK LOCATIONS. 331 

valley the frosts linger the latest in the spring, and make 
their first appearance in the autumn, and even in the middle 
of summer the nights are too damp and chilly for healthy 
vegetation. No matter if such a valley is thousands of 
feet above tide water, if it is surrounded by high hills, 
especially if abounding with springs, the cold air will set- 
tle in it of a still night and prove fatal to fruit. No wise 
man would build his house and bring up his children in 
such a damp, cold location, and apples love light and 
warmth just as much as the children do. It is not a bad 
rule to locate your orchard where you would your house, 
on some elevated, sunny-sheltered site. 

The contiguity of large bodies of water to an orchard 
is desirable, as the water in this case tends to produce an 
equilibrium of temperature, as large masses of water do 
not become suddenly cool or warm. A low, level island 
may, from this cause, furnish an excellent site for an or- 
chard, as the modifying influence of the water materially 
chanoces the climate. One of the best locations for fruit 
culture in the United States is found on the ridge extend- 
ing along the south side of our great western lakes. The 
soil must have some credit for the excellence of the ap- 
ples of western New York, northern Ohio and peninsular 
Michigan ; but if Rochester soil were transported into one 
of our cold, damp, imeven-tempered valleys, it would not 
produce such Northern Spies as it now does. 

Some shelter from the prevailing winds is always de- 
sirable for an orchard, and where it is not found in some 
neighboring forest or hill, may be furnished artificially by 
planting a belt of evergreen and deciduous trees to the 
windward. AYe know that some contend that the Avinds 
give tone and strength to the tree by swaying the limbs 
and increasing the circulation of sap ; and that some of 



332 PREPARATION OF THE SOIL. 



m 

pp<a ■ 



the healthiest and most symmetrical forest and fruit trees 
are found in open and exposed situations. We do not 
object to good ventilation in our orchards, any more than 
in our houses ; but as we like to temper the air a little 
before it comes in contact with our bodies, so we should 
prefer that a chilling blast should pass through a pine-tree 
before it struck the orchard. The little spindle leaves of 
the pine were made purposely to withstand an encounter 
with Boreas, and when the keen edge of his fury has been 
dulled by the pine, the damage he can do the orchard is 
comparatively small, and still his strength will be sufficient 
to give the trees all the shaking they may require. When 
an apple-tree is in bloom, or heavily laden with fruit, 
the more gently it is handled by the wind the better we 
like it. 

The preparation of the soil is scarcely less important 
than the selection of a site for an orchard. The apple- 
tree is, indeed, a cosmopolite, living everywhere and doing 
the best he can under the circumstances in which he is 
situated. In the granite soils of central Massachusetts, 
in the alluvial meadows of the Connecticut, in the sands 
of Cape Cod and the clays of Berkshire, or wherever he 
may be placed, he endeavors to make the best of his situ- 
ation, and to accomplish the mission for which he was 
sent into the world. We have seen a little stunted apple- 
tree upon a mountain pasture, browsed upon by the cattle 
and buffeted by the winds, but still maintaining its ground 
for many years, armed with thorns and looking as fierce 
and plucky as a hedgehog, and almost as invulnerable as 
the rocks by which it was surrounded. Such determina- 
tion to live and bear fruit deserved a better fortune. 
Though the apple may live in almost all soils and situa- 
tions, it does not follow that he has not his favorite homes 



SOIL FOR ORCHARDS. 333 

where proper food and shelter are furnished, and where 
he thrives most. 

There is much soil in Massachusetts where it would be 
perfect folly to plant an apple-tree without some previous 
jjreparation, and very little, if any, soil which may not be 
improved so as to render it fit for apple culture, so far as 
food for the tree and fruit is concerned ; and as an orchard 
is a permanent investment, which we expect to continue 
long after we have ourselves mouldered into dust, it is 
worth while to look well to its foundations, just as we are 
careful about the foundations of our houses. 

Both the chemical constituents and the mechanical 
structure of the soil must be regarded, if we wish our in- 
vestment in an orchard to pay us an hundred per cent, and 
it is not easy for after-culture to compensate for want of 
previous preparation. An apple-tree loves a strong, dry, 
deep soil, abounding with calcareous and other mineral 
elements, and having a porous subsoil. If the mineral 
elements are wanting, they can be most economically sup- 
plied by means of wood ashes, lime and bones. It is not 
necessary, in the case of trees, that the bones should be 
ground or even crushed, as we wish them to furnish food 
for long 3^ears, and this they will do by slow decomposi- 
tion if plowed in whole. We have found horn-piths to 
answer a good purpose in an orchard, and these we have 
bought at the tannery for a dollar per load. If excessive 
moisture abounds, it must be drawn off by thorough 
drainage. If the soil is. too clayey and compact, it must 
be pulverized by the plow and made more porous, either 
by muck, sand or barn-yard manure. Heavy, unleavened 
bread is no more uncongenial to man than stiff, wet clay 
is to an apple-tree ; and as the unleavened dough can be 
aerated and made most wholesome, so can a clay soil be 



334 TOP-DRESSING. 

made porous, permeable to the air, and well adapted to 
the production of apples ; not because clay is direct food 
for vegetation, but because its particles are extremely 
comminuted, and have power to absorb from the air, that 
great reservoir of nutrition, those elements which plants 
mainly live upon. The trees may not come into bearing 
in a clay loam so quickly as in a sandy one, but we are 
satisfied they are more healthy, more productive, and prob- 
ably will endure longer ; as the general rule is, that what- 
ever matures and bears fruit most speedily, also perishes 
quickly. In all cases we should recommend a deep plow- 
ing of the soil, with a trench or subsoil attachment to the 
plow, and the cultivation of some hoed crops for a year 
or two previous to the planting of an orchard. It is de- 
sirable, also, that the plow should be kept running for 
two or three years after the orchard is set, and the ground 
kept well aerated ; but after this length of time we have 
found the plow too rough a surgical instrument among the 
roots, and we have preferred to stock down to grass, and 
trust to an annual top-dressing to keep the land mellow. 
This, we know, is not according to the rule of horticul- 
turists generally, but we have found the trees on the grass 
land to do better in the long run than where the plow 
was used for a longer time. 

Neither should we advise plowing an old orchard. The 
severe root-pruning the trees receive by plowing, aided by 
the decomposition of the rotted sod and possibly by a 
coating of manure, may make them bear bountifully for a 
year or two, but it is like the evanescent flickering of a 
lamp before it goes out. A reaction is very apt to follow, 
and the orchard decays rapidly. A better mode is to top- 
dress the orchard every year, and we shall find remunera- 
tion in the health and fruitfulness of the trees, and the 



CAUSE OF FAILURE. 335 

abundant crops of grass. It is folly to suppose that land 
can support large trees yielding large crops of apples, 
without fresh supplies of raw material to work up into 
wood, leaves and fruit. If the soil is strong it may do 
this for a few years, but exhaustion must follow sooner or 
later ; and in most of our orchards, if a large crop of ap- 
ples is secured one year, the trees must lie fallow the next 
in order to recuperate, to extract from the air and the soil 
material from which fruit can be manufactured the suc- 
ceeding season. If, however, the land is top-dressed an- 
nually, it produces fruit as regularly every year as a cot- 
ton mill turns out its annual supply of goods. At least 
such has been our experience. The supply of fruit is not 
equally good every year, and occasionally a tree fails alto- 
gether, but we see no evidence of a year of plenty fol- 
lowed by a year of famine. 

Apples failed very generally in Massachusetts in 1865- 
6-7, and many feared the crop would never prove good 
again, but it must be remembered that the summers of 
1864-5-6 were unusually dry, and apples suffer much 
more from drouth than pears, as their roots do not extend 
into the soil so deeply. But during these seasons of 
drouth those orchards suffered least where the soil was 
deep. The roots of some varieties of apples are inclined 
to penetrate the soil more deeply than others, and those 
varieties whose roots run most perpendicularly suffered 
least from the drouth. As a general rule, it will be found 
that when the branches run up nearly j)erpendicularly the 
roots extend downward rather than longitudinally, pro- 
vided the character of the sub-soil is such as to allow of 
such extension. Thus during the severe drouths of the 
past few years, the Early Strawberry, the Cheeseboro Rus- 
set, and the Northern Spy bore very good crops on our 



I 



336 AFFECTED BY DROUTH. 

grounds, wliile the Greening, whose roots and branches 
extend more longitudinally, blossomed profusely enough, 
but the fruit fell off in July. The summer of 1807 was 
wet enough for fruit, but the drouths of the three previ- 
ous summers had so far impaired the constitution of the 
trees that it took them one year to recuperate. During 
the drouth of 186G the leaves curled and many of them 
withered and fell from the trees, so that the elaboration 
of the sap was imperfect; and in 1867 there was not 
vitality enough in the trees to produce fruit that year, 
though moisture was plenty ; but the trees grew finely, 
the leaves assumed their dark green again, healthy fruit- 
buds were formed, and in 1868 we had a bountiful harvest 
of apples. If the loss of our apple crops in the last few 
years can be attributed mainly to the severe drouths, as 
we feel confident it should be, then it follows that the 
deeper and more finely pulverized we can make the soils 
for our orchards, the less they will suffer from the dry 
seasons. 

But we must hasten to say a word in favor of the more 
careful planting of the trees. More than a third of the 
little whip-stalks which we buy from the nurseries fail of 
bearing fruit for the want of proper care in transplanting, 
and proper nursing in their infancy. We dig a little hole in I 
the sod, in which we tuck the roots in a cramped position 
and cover them with sods, poor earth and stones, and bid 
them adieu, which means we commend them to Provi- 
dence. If they live in such unfavorable circumstances, it 
is the result of God's providence and not of man's sa- 
gacity. Many of the saplings, — some say one-half, but 
wc will call it a third, — die of sheer carelessness and neg- 
lect before attaining to treehood, whereas not one tree in a 
hundred should die if properly spleptecl, transplanted and 



I 



PLANTING APPLE-TREES. 337 

nursed. Much skill can be exercised in the selection in 
the nursery. We want healthy trees to start with, those 
of stocky growth, smooth bark, and we greatly prefer 
those budded near the roots to those that are root-grafted. 
In digging the young trees they must be handled as things 
of life, and not as mere inanimate matter. As many roots 
and rootlets must be preserved as possible, and kept from 
exposure to sun and air. The nurserymen no doubt in- 
tend to be careful, but their hirelings cut and bruise the 
roots shockingl}^ and we have been more vexed with the 
paucity and poor condition of the roots of trees ordered 
from nurseries, than from almost any other thing in horti- 
culture. How to plant we can not so well say as in the 
language of Bryant: — 

" Wide let its hollow bed be made : 
There gently lay the roots, and there 
Sift the dark mould with kindly care 
And press it o'er them tenderly, 
As round the sleeping infant's feet 
We softly fold the cradle sheet." 

We have found it an excellent plan to place at the bot- 
tom of the "hollow bed" some bones, covering them with 
mellow earth, and on this place the tree. In after years 
the roots can be found thickly interlaced among those 
bones, slowly decomposing them, and appropriating their 
• elements for the support of the tree and its fruit. With 
such care exercised in transplanting, we will guarantee 
the trees to live, at the usual commission of 2 1-2 per cent. 

Neither must the trees be neglected after the " dark 
mould has been sifted and pressed over them tenderly." 
The turtle may lay her eggs in the sand and desert them, 
trusting to the warmth of the sun to hatch them, but per- 
petual vigilance is the price of success with the orchardist. 
15 



338 ENE^HES OF FHUIT TKEES. 

No sooner is a tree planted than its insect enemies find it 
out, and commence tlieir depredations. The borer and 
the bark louse, prey upon the body of the tree, the cater- 
pillar upon the leaves, and the curculio on the fruit. 
As a remedy for the borer and bark louse, we have found 
nothing so effectual as soft soap diluted with water in the 
case of young trees, and used pure when the bark has 
become thick. We put it on with an old broom, and the 
trees look as much better for the washing, as does the face 
of a dirty urchin. 

For killing the lice, we prefer to use the soap the lat- 
ter part of May, as the young brood makes its appearance 
at this time, as does also the beetle which lays the eggs 
for the borer. Another brood of lice is hatched about the 
first of August, and another dose of soap may be necessary 
at this time, if any stragglers failed to receive their por- 
tion of the first application. Oily mackerel brine is per- 
haps equally efficacious in destroying the lice, but the 
soap cleanses the bark more effectually, and enables it to 
co-operate with the leaves in performing their function of 
respiration. The bark lice are small and apparently inert 
and insignificant insects, but they are little vampires, mul- 
tiplying rapidly, — as under each scale may be found 30 
to 40 eggs — and they suck the life-blood of the tree un- 
less exterminated. 

The curculio is a more sly enemy. This is a small, 
brown beetle, as sluggish as the Turk, whose crescent it 
impresses upon the apple, and at the same time as sly as 
an Indian, keeping as quietly on the shady side of the 
fruit as an Indian on the shady side of the tree. It is 
much to be regretted that so little has been done to pre- 
vent the ravages of this insect. It formerly confined its 
depredations pretty much to the plum, but of late years 



THE CUECULIO. 339 

the cherry, pear and apple show in their deformed appear- 
ance unmistakable evidence of the wounds this insect 
causes. It makes a crescent-shaped puncture through the 
skin of the apple, in which it deposits an egg which soon 
hatches into a worm that makes its way to the core of the 
fruit and causes it to fall. For some reason many of the 
eggs fail of hatching, in which case the apple has a knotted 
surface. Many devices have been suggested for bagging 
this little rogue, but none of them are likely to be adopted 
by common farmers. The saying is, " Every dog must 
have his day," and we live in hopes the principle will 
prove true in regard to the curculio. It is encouraging 
that in the summer of 1868, comparatively few crescents 
were discovered upon the apples of Massachusetts, which 
were unusually fair. There is no evil in this world with- 
out its corresponding antidote. Man's faculties would lie 
dormant were they not taxed to overcome the vicissitudes 
of life. An easy and universal remedy for the curculio 
has not yet been discovered. He will be a public bene- 
factor who finds some mode of banishing the little Turk 
from his dominion over the apple orchard. The farmer 
would rejoice as much as the Russians would to see the 
sultan banished from Europe. 

The pruning of an orchard requires some skill. We 
have quacks in pruning as well as in medicine. Not 
every M. D. can amputate the limb of a man successfully; 
nor is every professed pruner qualified to amputate the 
limbs of a tree. In general it may be said that we prune 
too much, as the leaves and branches of the tree naturally 
correspond with the number and size of the roots, and are 
necessary for the healthy exercise of all the functions of 
the plant ; still we can not agree with those who say that 
nature will do her own pruning without the intervention 



340 PRUNING mUIT TIIEES. 

of man. Nature, we grant, does prune most skillfully, as 
we see in our forest trees, when the lower limbs perish 
for the want of light, and are whipped off by the wind, 
and we find some specimens of majestic and beautiful trees 
which have never felt the touch of the knife or saw ; but 
then we may see many others that would have been 
greatly benefited by the care of man. We should as soon 
think of leaving our children or our flocks and herds to 
the care of nature as our trees. Judicious pruning gives 
them a symmetrical form, and induces fruitfulness. We 
like to see an apple-tree with a low head and the lateral 
branches evenly distributed on the different sides, and 
curving upwards like the ribs of an inverted umbrella. 
This formation of the head must be attended to while the 
tree is young, and can be better performed by the knife 
than the saw, as the latter leaves a ragged wound. As 
a boy rightly trained in his youth needs little after-guid- 
ance, so a tree once well started needs little after-pruning, 
except to lop off the decaying branches and the interlop- 
ing suckers. The little necessar}^ pruning is best attended 
to in the latter part of May, when the sap is in the freest 
circulation, and the wound heals most quickly. 

As to the varieties, every planter must observe those 
which flourish most in his own neighborhood, and on soils 
similar to his own, and select accordingly. He should 
also study the wants of his market. If the orchard is 
planted for family use, we need varieties that will ripen at 
different seasons ; if for a distant and winter market, only 
a few varieties are required, and these should be selected 
with a reference to their productiveness and market value. 
For home use we always want a tender, juicy, high-fla- 
vored apple. The market always demands a large, good- 
looking one. In the western part of this State we prefer 



VARIETIES OF APPLES. 341 

for summer the Early Harvest, Red Astrachan and the 
Sweet Bough. (Williams' Favorite, we are ashamed to 
say, we have never cultivated.) For autumn, the Fall 
Pearmain, the Porter, the Gravenstein, the Fameuse, and 
the Fall Pippin. For winter, the Rhode Island Greening 
for yearly productiveness, late keeping, dessert and cook- 
ing qualities takes the lead in Western Massachusetts and 
New York, though in the eastern part of this State we are 
told it does not maintain its former reputation. 

Taking the State throughout, the Baldwin probably 
stands at the head of the market apples ; but we think its 
beauty rather than its flavor gives it this pre-eminence, 
and its tendency to bear only in alternate years is a great 
objection to it. For high flavor and for cooking, we know 
no apple equal to the Spitzenberg, but its pulp is rather 
tough, and the tree has not the constitutional vigor which 
we so much desire. The Northern Spy promises to do 
exceedingly well in New England. It comes slowly into 
bearing, but when it has once commenced yielding fruit 
the product is abundant and of a crispy, high-flavored, 
and late-keeping quality. We shall be much obliged if 
any one will tell us how to grow this variety with more 
uniform size. The King of Tompkins County is another 
promising variety. It is a showy market fruit, originating 
in Tom^pkins County, N. Y., and the grafted fruit so far 
does well in Massachusetts. Whether the budded trees 
will be adapted to our soil and climate, we have not had 
sufficient experience to decide with certainty. 

The Hubbardston Nonesuch is a Massachusetts seed- 
ling, and one of the best of our early winter apples. The 
tree is vigorous, an early bearer and great producer, and 
the fruit handsome and of first quality, though some ob- 
ject to it as wanting in positive acidity. This very mild, 



342 PLANT trees! plant trees! 

sub-acid flavor is to others a great recommendation, and 
we predict for this variety a greater reputation in the mar- 
ket than it has heretofore maintained. The hst of good 
winter apples is so great that we can not pay our respects 
to them all, but we must not omit the Tolman Sweet, a 
native of Rhode Island, which is so excessive in its pro- 
ductiveness that it is much inclined to overtax itself one 
year and lie idle the next. The children call this a good 
dessert variety, but we prefer to see it baked before it is 
brought upon the table. The tree yields so bountifully 
that we have known one of fifteen summers' growth to 
furnish fifteen bushels of fruit. 

We are conscious that we have not done this subject 
justice. We have not said half what we desired and in- 
tended to say upon the topics just touched upon. The 
orchard was the first love of our youth, and every tree 
planted has served to endear us to the home of our child- 
hood. We can not better conclude than in the language 
of Gerard: "Gentlemen that own land, plant trees in 
every corner of it ; the labor is small, the commodity is 
great." 



LEOTUEE TWELFTH. 




CHAPTER XXXVII. 

CATTLE HUSBANDRY. 

\E have considered some of the modes of improv- 
ing the land and some of the crops raised on the 
^ farm, and now comes the great question with 
most farmers, "How shall we most profitably 
dispose of these crops? Shall we sell them directly, or 
shall we feed them to stock and sell the beef, butter, 
cheese and other products which this stock furnishes?" 
If it is decided to feed the vegetable products of the soil 
and convert them into animal products, the questions re- 
cur, " What stock is preferable, and what is the best mode 
of feeding?" 

These questions and others incidental to them are of 
the utmost importance, as on the decision of them the 
success of the agriculturist must mainly depend. That 
in the great majority of cases the vegetable products of 
the farm must be converted into animal before they are 
sold, is the united testimony of history and of all observ- 
ing farmers. In no other way can the farm be kept in 
good heart. There may be a few exceptions to this gen- 
eral principle. Some farms may be located so near cities 
and villages, in which fertilizers can be easily obtained, 



344 PROFIT OF KEEPING STOCK. 

and the market value of hay, grain and roots is high, 
where it may be good economy to sell these products, but 
these exceptions do not controvert the general rule. 

It may be difficult sometimes to cipher out the profits 
of keeping stock. If a valuation is made in the autumn 
of farm products, and the stock, and of the same stock in 
the spring after it has consumed all the products, it does 
seem sometimes as though the latter had been half wasted. 
It takes two tons of hay in Massachusetts to winter a cow, 
and when the hay is worth 830 to $40, the cow is often 
enhanced in value by her winter's feed only $15 or $20. 
There is an apparent loss here of half the value of the 
hay. The loss is apparent, not real. We must ever make 
a distinction between intrinsic and commercial values. 

The intrinsic value of a cow in the spring may be fifty 
per cent, more than in the fall while the commercial 
value may be increased only twenty-five per cent. The 
commercial value can not be predicted with certainty. 
It often varies greatly in the course of six months, some- 
times rising unaccountably high, and at other times suffer- 
ing as unaccountable depression. Besides, in comparing 
the different values of stock in the autumn and spring, 
we seldom make sufficient allowance for the incidental 
profits, — the milk furnished, the work performed, and 
especially the manure cellared. 

When hay was very high during the late rebellion, we 
advised a neighbor, a shrewd Irish widow, to sell her cow 
in the fall and buy again in the spring, and thus avoid 
purchasing her winter's stock of hay. Her reply was, 
"But where shall I get milk for the children, and where 
shall I get my potatoes next summer? The children live 
on the cow during the winter, and we all shall live next 
summer on the potatoes raised from the manure." Her 



ADVANTAGES OF CATTLE RAISING. 345 

mode of putting the questions and affirmations was irre- 
sistible, and we have no doubt she was right in persist- 
ing to keep her cow. 

The fact is patent to every one, that where large herds 
of cattle are kept there is thrift. The land is well tilled 
and the purse well filled. From the days of the patri- 
archs, who kept large flocks and herds, till this nine- 
teenth century, history abundantly proves that cattle 
husbandry has been and is the most successful branch of 
farming. The grain grower unconsciousl}^ perhaps, to 
himself, makes inroads on his capital. By selling his 
grain he is slowly but surely impoverishing his land. 

We knew a Massachusetts farmer wdio moved to the 
Genesee valley when that valley was in the height of its 
glory as the wheat producing region of the United 
States. He was so delighted with the golden harvest 
and its speedy returns in cash, that he wrote back to his 
benighted friends at the East, as New England was then 
called when Rochester was in the West, commiserating 
them on the slow turning of the penny which the raising 
of stock required, and saying that he should keep no 
more stock than was necessary for tilling his land and 
furnishing his family with milk, and boasting that he 
could raise wheat at a profit for five shillings (sixty-two 
and one-half cents) per bushel. 

Little barn room and little fencing were required. 
Everything went swimmingly for a few years. The 
Genesee land was deep and fertile, but was exhausted 
after a time. The father died poor and the son, by re- 
sorting to cattle husbandry on the same farm, soon paid 
off the mortgage on the estate. By raising cattle, the 
penny is turned more slowly but more surely. 

It takes three or four years to change the calf into a 
15* 



346 TRUE SECRET OF FARM WEALTH. 

COW or an ox, but the calf grows while we sleep, and ere 
we are aware the little stiff-legged, awkward quadruped, 
worth only a few dollars, becomes a graceful heifer or steer 
that can be readily exchanged for a hundred dollar green- 
back. In the meantime the keeping has cost the farmer 
little expense that he feels, as the produce consumed is 
the result of his labor, and has never been entered on his 
cash account. "When a pair of oxen is sold, the compara- 
tively large amount received is regarded as the consumma- 
tion of years of patient waiting, and is generally securely 
invested ; whereas, if this sum had come in little driblets, 
it would probably have been expended as pin money. 

Still the great secret of the general success of cattle 
husbandry is the enrichment of the soil. While the calf 
is being converted into the ox, he returns to the land a 
great share of the products consumed, and robs it of only 
the small amount requisite to form his carcass. The keep- 
ing of cattle always stimulates the husbandman to an im- 
proved agriculture. We never knew a farmer with forty 
or fifty head of cattle, who did not feel anxious to raise as 
much produce as possible on which to winter them, so that 
the great physical law of action and reaction holds good in 
cattle husbandry; the produce acts upon the stock and 
the stock reacts upon the produce. The more cattle the 
more manure, and the more manure the more produce, 
and the more produce the more cattle. Thus the forces 
of nature are correlated. 

Not one of the least advantages of stock-breeding is 
the increased stimulus it gives to the mental faculties of 
the farmer. Almost any one can raise hay. It grows 
spontaneously and needs comparatively little human skill 
to direct in its management. Just so with all vegetation. 
There is science involved in the laws of vegetable growth 



INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 347 

and we wish there was more skill exercised in the cultiva- 
tion of all vegetable products, but the animal economy is 
one degree higher than the vegetable, and to understand 
this economy calls for the exercise of higher mental 
powers. 

Comparatively few persons have the keen, practiced eye 
5nd the sensitive touch nicely to discern even the external 
points of a good animal, and fewer still understand the 
laws of breeding, and of animal physiology and pathology. 
To manage with the greatest success a large or even a 
small herd of cattle, requires a knowledge of their anat- 
omy, the functions of the different parts of the body, the 
food best adapted to develop muscles, bones, fat or milk, 
and the diseases to which animals are liable and the remedy 
for the same. Very few farmers study these subjects as 
they should ; still the owner of a choice herd feels the value 
of such knoAvledge, and every day leads him to the exer- 
cise of more or less practical judgment on these points 
and no mental faculty is ever brought into healthy exer- 
cise without being strengthened. 

Cattle husbandry not only exercises and invigorates 
the mental faculties, but it also quickens and cherishes the 
affections, and thus adds vastly to the pleasures of life. 
TherQ is great pleasure in aiding and directing vegetation ; 
in making ten blades of grass grow where one grew before ; 
in tending the flower garden and watching the development 
of the leaves and flowers ; in planting trees and observing 
the expanding buds, the opening blossoms and the golden 
fruit ; but there is a higher pleasure still in guiding animal 
life. The rose and the peach are things of life and beauty, 
and give us exquisite enjoyment, but they do not 
appreciate our care and attention, and never sympa- 
thize with humanity. Not so with the animal. In his 



348 INTELLIGENCE OF ANIMALS. 

eye we see the higher beauty of intelligence, and though 
he can not say " Thank you," in response for our kind at- 
tentions, still he looks grateful. There was much truth 
in the remark of a poor man, who when asked to sell his 
pet dog for a valuable consideration replied, '' No, I can't 
part with him. I would like the money, but the wag of 
the doom's tail when I come home tired at nis^ht is worth 
more than money." There is a sympathy between a 
kind master and his dumb beast which gives a higher 
pleasure than that which merely ministers to the gratifi- 
cation of the senses. It stirs the soul. Next to divinity 
and humanity, the lower animals call forth our affections 
and excite j)^6asurable emotions. Indeed, we have 
known cases where the beast seemed to be held in higher 
estimation than humanity. We have seen the children 
going barefooted, ragged, unkempt, and untrained, while 
the colt was carefully shod, groomed, blanketed, fed and 
tutored. So strong does the love of that intelligent ani- 
mal, the horse, become with some men, that with them 
the horse is first, and the wife and children are second. 
This is a sad perversion of the affections, a substitution 
of an inferior for a higher good. Mich as we delight in 
tending the dumb beasts, in ministering to their wants, 
guiding their development, and noticing theu' endeavors 
to reciprocate the kindness, still we have no sympathy 
with that morbid affection wliich is often lavished upon a 
poodle dog, which should be bestowed upon a child that 
has a higher intellectual and moral nature. 

The value and importance of cattle husbandry can only 
be learned from the statistics of the government. In a for- 
mer lecture we have given the returns of the cattle of Mas- 
sachusetts in 1865, and we have no census of the United 
States since 1860. In that year the neat cattle of the 



INCREASE OF CATTLE. 349 

whole countr}^, including the territories, were: Cows 
8,728,862, worldng oxen 2,240,675, other cattle, includ- 
ing all under three years old, 14,671,400, total, 25,640,937 ; 
calling the cows 840 each, the oxen $50, and the young 
stock 825, the total valuation was $827,973,230. The 
increase, both in number and price, in the last twenty 
years, especially in the western and south-western states, 
is immense. From 1850 to 1860, the number of cows in- 
creased in Illinois from 294,671 to 532,731, and in Texas, 
which promises to be the banner state for cattle and sheep 
husbandry, the increase of cows within the period named 
was from 217,811 to 598,086, nearty a triplicate ratio in 
ten years. 

During the war there was great slaughter of neat stock 
in those states over which the hostile armies ranged ; still, 
it is calculated that in the country at large, the increase 
from 1860 to 1870 will be fully equal to that of the pre- 
vious decade. We are, in fact, just beginning to compre- 
hend the vast resources of our country for cattle produc- 
tion. The increase in this state of the valuation of 
horses, oxen and cows from 1855 to 1865 was $4,731,269, 
and this in a state whose natural productions have been 
said to be only granite and ice. Great as is this increase, 
there is a large margin for further improvement. 

The statistics give us no means of ascertaining how 
many acres are required, on an average, to support a cow 
in Massachusetts. We wish they did, that the farmers 
might be shamed into a more thorough cultivation of their 
land. We speak within bounds, when we say that the 
average number of acres each cow requires for her sup- 
port through the year, is six. Others have estimated it 
as high as ten. Allowing that a cow requires two tons of 
hay for her wintering, we know that it must require over 



350 ROOTS AND VEGETABLES FOR FODDER. 

two acres on an average for her winter support, as the 
average production of hay is less than one ton per acre, 
and we allow twice this amount, or four acres, for the 
summer pasture. This is probably below the real fact, 
but, even with this low estimate, this is three times as 
much land as is necessary to sustain a cow when she is 
fed nothing but grass and hay. 

Custom authorizes the main reliance by the farmer on 
the grasses, green and dried, for the support of his cattle 
during the entire year ; but does not our increasing popu- 
lation, bringing, as it does, an increased demand for beef, 
milk and dairy products, require that we should adopt 
other articles for feeding stock, that will yield a greater 
amount of nutritious food to the acre than do the grasses ? 

We have, in a former lecture, suggested and advocated 
the roots as one of the means of increasing and improving 
our herds, and we desire here to mention one or two oth- 
ers. The Stowell evergreen corn makes a fodder superior 
to hay for milch cows, and the amount that can be grown 
on an acre is fourfold. We have never weighed this fod- 
der when thoroughly dried, but in its green state we 
could hardly believe the steel3^ards ; and we shall not tell 
you what they told us, for fear you will call our veracity 
in question ; but others estimate the yield of the evergreen 
sweet-corn when dry, at ten tons per acre. It is so suc- 
culent that it is difficult to cure it perfectly for safe stor- 
age, and we have therefore preferred to use it green, and 
depend upon the rowen crop of hay for the main food of 
oui' cows during winter. 

Another fodder for our cattle which we desire to suggest, 
is cabbages. The cabbage is one of the most nutritious 
of vegetables, and approximates the nearest to meat as 
food for man of all the vegetables commonly placed on 



II 



VALUE OF CABBAGES FOK CATTLE. 351 

our tables. Indeed, no vegetable product is so rich in 
nitrogen, mushrooms alone excepted. The dried leaf of 
the cabbage, according to Johnston's analysis, contains 
from thirty to thirty-five per cent, of gluten, the muscle- 
forming compound. The Irishman, therefore, in follow- 
ing the instincts of his nature, and choosing cabbage for 
his diet, chooses as well as science could choose for him. 
AVe are confident the value of cabbages as food for stock 
has not been sufficiently appreciated. We have raised 
them for years, mainly for market, feeding only the refuse 
leaves and small heads to the cattle, and find that on no 
green food do they thrive more, and this is the testimony 
of all who have tried them. 

Mr. Birnie of Springfield is probably the most exten- 
sive feeder of cabbages of any one in the state, as he 
cultivates several acres purposely for feeding cows. His 
testimony is: "I have found no green food that will put 
flesh on cows 'like cabbages." The amount of this food 
that can be raised on an acre varies with the strength 
of the soil. There is scarcely any limit to it. On good, 
rich land, (and cabbages can be raised on no other,) 
twenty to twenty-five tons per acre is the ordinary yield, 
and the labor required in their cultivation is but a trifle 
more than in cultivating an acre of corn. That they are 
an exhaustive crop we can not deny ; but what the land 
loses the cattle gain, and the more rapidly we can convert 
the inert matter of the soil into beef and milk the better. 
We have no such fear of exhaustive crops as some ex- 
press, unless they exhaust the land, as does tobacco, 
merely to stimulate the nerves of men. 

If cabbages will convert more soil into beef in one year 
than any other vegetable, then we shall vote for cabbages, 
just as we should choose machinery that would most 



352 VALUE OF CABBAGES FOK CATTLE. 

rapidly transform cotton into cloth. More cotton may 
be exhausted, but more cloth is made, and this is what 
we are driving at, and the sooner we reach the goal the 
better. Show us a crop that does not exhaitst the land, 
and we will show you one that furnishes comparatively 
little nutriment. The cabbage, however, being a broad 
leaved plant, derives much of the nourishment, which it 
furnishes to cattle, from the air, and whatever we can ap- 
propriate from this great reservoir of plant food, this 
common stock which all are at liberty to draw upon in- 
definitely, we consider as so much clear gain. 




CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

FEEDING OF STOCK. 

manner in which stock is fed is scarcely less 
II important than the material of the food. In feed- 
ing ourselves, we are very particular that the food 
should be properly prepared, brought into a fine 
state, and cooked and seasoned to a nice point. In the 
preparation of human food, there may be some question 
whether we have not carried this point to its extreme limit, 
and tickled our palates at the expense of our stomachs ; but 
no such question can arise with respect to the food of our 
cattle. The custom has been to feed them the raw prod- 
ucts uncut, unground, uncooked. 

Now, we can see no reason why a cow may not prefer 
to have her hay, roots and grain cut, ground and cooked, 
as well as man to have his food properly prepared for 
assimilation. Our Andersonville prisoners found it tough 
living to grind the corn with their teeth, or even to con- 
vert corn meal into palatable food. Our cattle are not 
over-nice in their tastes, but there is good reason for pre- 
paring their food so that it may be acceptable and easily 
digested. Some argue that, as there is no more nourish- 
ment in food when cooked than before, cooking is a waste 
of time and fuel. But why do we cook our own food ? 
It is not merely to make it more palatable, but also that 
it may the more readily and thoroughly be assimilated. 



ft 



354 COOKING FOOD. 

Much vital energy of man would be wasted in eating 
whole kernels of corn or wheat ; and then the nutrition 
would not be so thoroughly extracted from the grain, 
as it is when the flour is first fermented and baked. 

The fermentation, which is the first step towards decay, 4 
aids the animal just so far that it anticipates this process, 
which would otherwise have to be performed in the 
stomach. This view is confirmed by the practice of the 
best feeders. We visited, a few days since, the large 
herd of Jerseys belonging to Mr. Adams of Watertown. 
The hay, meal and roots fed to this stock are all 
steamed before being fed, and it is estimated that the 
cows give twenty to twenty-five per cent, more milk 
than they would from the uncooked feed. Even the wa- 
ter is made tepid before the cows are allowed to drink it, 
so that the animal heat may not be reduced by drinking 
cold water. A large dairy farmer in Berkshire, who is a 
close observer, and who endeavors to make each cow do 
her best, and who, in 1868, did make his herd return him 
an average of $100 per head, says he is satisfied that he 
can make 25 per cent, more milk from cooked food. The 
testimony of Mr. Birnie, who supplies milk to the city of 
Springfield, and of Mr. Collins, who furnishes milk to the 
village of Collinsville, is to the same effect. The increased 
flow of milk we do not attribute entirely to the fact of 
the food being cooked, but also to its being much diluted 
with water ; for milk, having 80 per cent, of water in its 
composition, necessarily requires a large amount of this 
fluid, a principle which those who object to feeding roots 
because they contain 80 to 90 per cent, water will do well 
to consider. 

Cooking food for cattle costs something, we grant, 
and whether it may not be more economical to let the 



EEGULAEITY OF FEEDING. 855 

animal do his own grinding and cooking at the expense of 
some of his vital energy and the waste of some nutrition, 
each farmer must judge for himself. A boiler, sufficient 
to steam food for a large herd of seventy-five to one hun- 
dred cattle, costs from $100 to f 125, and a steaming box 
is a simple affair which any mechanical farmer can make 
for himself. In case only a small herd is kept, and steam- 
ing is deemed unadvisable, corn and other grains may be 
soaked in water till they become soft and begin to ferment, 
when they wdll be found more palatable and nourishing to 
stock and the miller's tolls be saved. 

Regularity in feeding is essential to the highest success 
in cattle husbandry. In a well regulated family there are 
stated times for meals, and the household are expected to 
be present at these times, and not eat helter-skelter, as 
chance may furnish or appetite demand. When the habit 
of regularity is once acquired, our natures conform to it and 
we seldom feel hungry except at the appointed seasons for 
meals, no matter whether the dinner hour is at twelve, 
two, or four o'clock. Show us a family where the chil- 
dren eat at all hours, and make a dining-room of the but- 
tery, and we can generally show you a lot of pale-faced, 
dyspeptic children. Regularity and system are no less 
important in the herd than in the family. 

Cattle that are fed irregularly are uneasy, constantly on 
the qui vive for something to eat, while those that are fed 
systematically, do not start with every opening of the 
barn door, but wait quietly till the customary feeding- 
time comes. 

A supply of pure water is the next requisite to a sup- 
ply of good food. The old practice of driving cattle once 
or twice a day to a neighboring brook or spring, is more 
honored in the breach than the observance. It is waste- 



356 PLENTY OF WATER. 

ful of manure, muscle and health. Man never thinks of 
eating without drinking, although most of the food he eats 
is largely diluted Avith water, lean beef containing 75 per 
cent. When deprived of both food and drink for a sea- 
son, his first and great want is water. Where cattle have 
convenient access to water, it is curious to notice how 
many times in a day they will drink. When compelled 
to go without drinking twelve or twenty-four hours, and 
fed on dry hay, they must suffer greatly. 

One of the largest and best breeders of Durhams in 
Massachusetts, and indeed in the whole country, Mr. 
George T. Plunkett of Hinsdale, has a trough of water con- 
stantly before his cattle in the stable, with a little trap door 
which the cattle soon learn to raise when they Avish to 
drink. He feeds four times each day, and assures us that 
his cattle invariably drink after each meal. Cows can not 
furnish milk without an abundance of liquid food. To 
compel them to manufacture it from dry hay and one or 
two drinks of cold water per day is unreasonable. If 
they comply with our demand they must do it at the ex- 
pense of the tissues of their bodies, look " spring " poor 
when turned out to grass, and be Avorth only half as 
much through the summer. 

The impression is quite general among dairy farmers 
that milk can not be made with profit in the winter, 
and thus the cows are permitted to go dry three or four 
months. This is too much like a manufacturer shutting 
up his mill during the dry months of summer. To secure 
the greatest returns from a cow, the milk must floAv pretty 
much through the year, and those Avho are furnishing 
milk for the city market affirm that their greatest profits 
are in the Avinter, Avhen the price of milk is nearly double 
what it is in the summer, and the flow little, if any, less. 



VALUE OF PURE AIR. 357 

To secure this even flow through the year the cows must 
be furnished with warm stables well littered and venti- 
lated, and an abundance of succulent food. The secret 
of the success of the Berkshire farmer, whose cows re- 
turned him $100 per year in 1868, was in the fact that he 
fed them "slops," as he called it; that is, the meal, bran, 
and everything he fed was well watered. We have no 
idea his milk was as rich as though the cows had been fed 
with dry meal, but if milk can be watered by putting the 
water into the mouth of the cow, we know no law 
acrainst it. 

Pure air is more essential to the health of the animal than 
pure water, or even food itself. The animal takes food 
three times a day, but breathes continually. It can live 
without food some days, but can not live without air a 
moment. As we go into some stables the odor is enough 
to stagger one. Cattle may possibly live in such an at- 
mosphere, but they can not thrive, and the milk must 
have a stable flavor, as it is a great absorbent of the gases 
of the air. 

There is no necessity for such a suffocating atmosphere 
in the stable. One or more ventilators, simple box-tubes, 
a foot square, should run from the cellar to the barn roof 
with openings into them from the stable, and up these 
tubes will rush a constant current of air heated by the 
bodies of the animals and the fermenting manure. As 
much of the gases of the manure as possible should, how- 
ever, be retained by some absorbent. For this purpose, 
plaster scattered daily around the stables is excellent, but 
we have found it no better absorbent than fine sand or 
loam. 

We recently visited the herd of Ayrshires owned by 
Dr. Loring of Salem, some seventy in number, and found 



358 KIND TKEATMENT OF ANIMALS. 

the stables all littered with sand, and the air having none 
of that offensive smell too common in most barns, though 
large deposits of manure were fermenting in the cellar 
beneath the stables. Loam is a still better absorbent 
than fine sand, but does not furnish so clean a bed for the 
cattle to lie upon. We formerly thought nothing but 
straw would make bedding for cattle, but we are satisfied 
they like sand just as well, and the sand keeps the air 
sweeter and makes excellent compost for clay or mucky 
soils. Straw in these modern days commands so high a 
price, that the use of sand is recommended as a matter of 
economy as well as an absorbent. 

We can not pass over this subject of the care of animals, 
without alluding to the importance of treating them kindly. 
We can tell in a moment, as we go into a pasture with the 
owner of a herd, whether there is sympathy between him 
and his stock, or whether they are treated by him as a 
mass of inanimate clay. Some herds welcome their mas- 
ter as children do their father, crowd around him, and are 
gratified with a gentle tap from his hand. Other herds 
play shy of their owner, and seem to look upon him as an 
enemy. Animals appreciate gentle treatment, and always 
do better when they receive it. A man who has little 
sympathy with his dumb beasts, but kicks and scolds them, 
does not deserve to own any, and had better sell to the 
first neighbor who will treat them more gently. Every 
blow and every scare given to an animal detracts so much 
from its vital energy, and drives it from a domestic to a 
wild state. 

The Irish woman who addresses her cow more gently 
than she does her brother, derives all the more benefit 
from the food she furnishes the animal. The cow can not 
express her gratitude for the gentle treatment in words, 



»^ ADAPTATION OF FOOD TO ANIMALS. 359 

but she shows it on her ribs and in the milk-pail. We are 
pained every summer to see the village cows, with their 
udders overflowing with milk, driven home by careless 
boys with the speed of velocipedes, and pelted with stones 
as though they were as insensible as the rocks. 

There is no natural antagonism between men and the 
lower animals as some suppose. In the garden of Eden 
they came to our first parent to receive their names, and 
Adam doubtless gave them a kind and welcome reception, 
and they manifested no terror nor malice. It was man's 
(not to say woman's) sin and cruelty that put enmity into 
his heart, not only to his Maker, but also to the lower 
orders of creation, and it is the same sin and cruelty in his 
posterity that continues the enmity. We have no patience 
w^ith the man from whom, when he goes into his barn-yard, 
the cattle and the hens flee as they would from a bull-dog. 
Such cows never give so much milk, and such hens never 
lay so many eggs. To man was given the dominion over 
the beasts of .the field, and the fowls of the air, but it was 
never intended that he should play the cruel tyrant. We 
rejoice in the organization of the society for the preven- 
tion of cruelty to animals. Rarey has taught us the true 
method of establishing our dominion over horses, and 
farmers will find it greatly to their pecuniary advantage 
to extend the same principles of decision, kindness and 
sympathy to cattle, and indeed to every living creature. 

Of the adaptation of different kinds of food to different 
animals, in the different stages of their growth, and with 
a view to accomplish different results, we have spoken in 
former lectures, when treating of the different crops, and 
only allude to it now to say that this subject demands 
more careful attention from farmers than it has generally 
received. The animal is simply the farmer's machinery 



360 FOOD FOE CALVES. 

by which he manufactures his grass, grain and roots into 
beef, milk and their kindred products, and it is not only 
necessary that the machinery be good, but also that it be 
furnished with the proper kind and quantity of raw ma- 
terial from which to manufacture these products. We 
are satisfied that at least one-third, possibly one-half, of 
the value of our crops is wasted by injudicious feeding. 

Too many feed their growing stock as though it were 
their purpose to convert it into beef at six months' sight, 
and the feed for muscle, milk, and fat is too uniformly 
alike. A good cow produces from two thousand to three 
thousand quarts of milk in a year, and whether the 
amount is one or the other of these figures depends much 
upon the quantity and quality of her food. 

If the object of feeding is simply growth, building up 
the frame-work of the animal and covering it with muscle 
to give it locomotion and sufficient fat to lubricate the 
machinery, then milk is the food for the infantile period 
of growth, and grass, roots, and possibly a few oats for the 
latter stages of development. Milk is the natural food 
of the young animal, and nothing can supply its place. 
For the first week the calf should have pure, fresh milk to 
start the viscera and all the organs into healthy exercise ; 
after that the milk may as well be skimmed, unless the ob- 
ject is to make veal (of which we must say, in passing, 
we make too much in this country). The cream subtracts 
little if any of the casein or muscle-forming qualities of 
the milk, and the calf develops just as well (if not bet- 
ter) upon skimmed milk. 

We have heard objection made to skimmed milk upon 
the ground that it is not the natural food ; in the wild 
state the calf has the pure article. Very true, but we 
must remember that our domestic animals Uyo in an arti- 



MILK IN LAIIGE QUANTITIES. 361 

ficial state, and their habits are essentially modified by 
their changed mode of life. The amount of milk that a 
cow in her naturally ^vild state gives, is very small, and 
will not hurt the young animal, but to turn a calf with its 
dam upon a mountain pasture through the summer, as is the 
practice of some, makes a very fat, plump-looking calf in 
the fall, but the owner is generally disappointed in its after 
development. The young animal should, however, have 
a liberal allowance of the skimmed milk to keep it in good 
growing condition, and when turned into a small inclos- 
ure to get a bite of grass; it should also have a supply of 
pure water, for the calf is a great drinker. A little boiled 
oat-meal gruel will now do no damage. Corn or flax- 
seed meal will give a more rounded or sleek look to the calf, 
but the object in raising young stock is to make them 
grow, not to fatten them. For the Avinter feed, early cut 
or rowen hay and roots most promote healthy growth. 

Where the object in feeding is to produce milk in quan- 
tity, without reference particularly to its quality, succu- 
lent food must be furnished in unstinted supply. The 
more water a cow can be made to take with her food, the 
more milk she will give. The milk produced from such 
food may look a little watered, and is watered, but it is done 
legitimately. Fresh, succulent grass is the most convenient 
and natural food of the milch cow in the grazing season, 
and she should not be compelled to wander far nor work 
hard in search of her food. No matter how active her 
disposition, the more easily she obtains her food and the 
more time she has for rest, the greater will be her flow 
of milk. 

From the luxuriant and succulent grasses of June, the 
greatest amount of milk is obtained, and when the herb- 
age of the pastures becomes dry and scanty, the flow of 
16 



362 MILK IN LAKGE QUANTITIES. 

milk can be kept up by supplementing the grasses with 
red clover or sowed corn fodder. This mode of feeding 
is termed soiling, and is indispensable when a full sup- 
ply of milk is required through the season. One acre of 
land, well cultivated in soiling crops, will yield as much 
nutrition for cows as four or five acres of common pas- 
ture. 

We have found orchard grass, red clover, and sweet 
corn the best soiling crops, and we have named them in 
the order in which they come into use during the sum- 
mer. Orchard grass starts early in the spring, and in a 
deep rich soil has a wonderful luxuriance of growth. 
We know no forage crop that will produce so great 
an amount to the acre, unless it is the Stowell evergreen 
corn ; and the orchard grass has the advantage over the 
corn of coming earlier in the season, and ^delding a suc- 
cession of crops till late in the autumn. When cut the 
young blade shoots up irnxUiediately, and under favorable 
circumstances grows two or three inches in twenty-four 
hours. Red clover is highly relished by cattle as a soiling 
food, gives a great flow of rich milk, and yields two or 
three successive crops. Nothing, however, delights the 
milch cow so much as sweet corn, or gives more abun- 
dant supplies of good milk. It is just as easily raised as 
the common corn, and the Stowell variety yields almost 
as bountifully as the southern gourd-seed, continues in 
good feeding condition till frost comes, and cabbage 
leaves, root tops and pumpkins are ready to supply its 
place. 

Soiling has long been practiced in England and Hol- 
land, and was first introduced into this country, or at 
least, first brought distinctly before the public, by the late ' 
Josiah Quincy ; and we are confident that in the neighbor- 



EXPERIMENTS IN SOILING. 363 

hood of cities, and wherever land is high and the dairy is 
the leading branch of farming, it will be found the most 
profitable mode of summer feeding. Soiling does indeed 
require some extra labor, but labor is not a bugbear which 
farmers should be afraid of, and is amply compensated by 
the increased quantity of milk and manure, and the 
diminished amount of land and fencing required. Mr. E. 
W. Stewart of North Evans, N. Y., gives us in Mr. Al- 
len's late work on American cattle, the results of three 
experiments in three different seasons, made to determine 
how long a certain number of animals could be kept on 
one-quarter of an acre from one cutting of clover. " In 
the first experiment, seven cows and four horses, equal to 
twelve cows, were fed fifteen days. In the second ex- 
periment six cows and five horses were fed fourteen days, 
and in the third, eleven cows were fed sixteen days. In 
each instance the feed was equal to keeping one cow from 
one hundred and sixty-eight to one hundred and eighty 
days, or nearly the usual pasturing season." Mr. Stew- 
art's experience of ten years' soiling is that the cows give 
one-tenth more milk when soil-fed than when pastured, 
and that soiling has uniformly improved the health and 
condition of his animals. 

We have dwelt thus largely on feeding with reference 
to the production of milk, because we fully believe that 
milk should receive increased attention from the farmers 
of Massachusetts. We can not compete with our west- 
ern friends in producing grain, beef, pork and wool, but 
they can not furnish our Eastern cities and villages with 
milk, and few of them seem to know how to make good 
butter and cheese. Few persons realize the amount and 
value of the milk and cream consumed by the family. 

We commonly think and speak of bread as the staff of 



864 STAPLES OF LIFE. 

life, but where milk and cream are as freely used as the 
health and comfort of the family demand, the milk bill 
will always be found larger than that of flour, and the 
same is true of the butter bill. Indeed, in most families, 
it will be found on examination that flour is the fifth item 
in the list of table expenses, beef, butter, sugar and 
milk taking the precedence, and three of these items it 
will be noticed are the products of cattle husbandr}^ 
Massachusetts butter and cheese have long been held in 
high estimation, and we are now successfully competing 
Y/ith Orange County, — a county, by the way, with no very 
definite boundaries, as it seems to extend along the Erie 
road wherever milk is furnished, — in suppljdng New York 
city with fresh milk. 

The sweet pastures of the Berkshire hills furnish a milk 
which is conveyed one hundred and sixty miles, and com- 
mands in the New York market a higher price than the 
famous Orange County article. Possibly the farmers of 
the Housatonic valley have not learned all the tricks of 
the trade, and the high price obtained may be due to the 
purity of the article as well as the sweetness of the 
herbage. If so, time will determine. We trust the Berk- 
shire farmers will maintain their integrity, and they can 
well afford to, for their united testimony is that the 
profits of furnishing milk are from twenty to forty per 
cent, more than by manufacturing it into butter and 
cheese by the domestic dairy. 

The cheese factory is also giving a great stimulus 
to cattle husbandry in this state. The experience of 
the last few years abundantly proves that the cheese 
factory is capable of doing for the keeper of a herd of 
cows what the woolen factory has already done for the 
keeper of a flock of sheep. Cheese making is one of those 



CHEESE MAKING. 865 

divisions of labor that always accompany increased popu- 
lation and civilization. It is but reasonable to suppose 
that a man who gives all his mind to the manufacture of 
cheese can understand his business better than one whose 
mind is distracted Avith other pursuits, and the fact that 
factory cheese is more uniform in quality and commands 
a higher price than that of domestic dairies, is proof that 
this is the case. 

If two or three persons, with the conveniences of a fac- 
tory, can take care of the milk of five hundred cows better 
than ten times this number of persons can in the private 
dairy, by all means let us have the cheese factory, wherever 
there is not a demand for fresh milk. On this same prin- 
ciple of division of labor, we see no reason why we may 
not have butter factories, and indeed both butter and 
cheese can be manufactured in the same building. The 
oily matter in milk which goes to make butter is entirely 
distinct from the casein which furnishes the curd. We 
would not advocate the manufacture of white-oak cheeses, 
so tough and hard that they Avould answer for the wheels 
of ox-carts; but still true economy demands that from 
rich milk a part of the oil be extracted before the casein 
is separated from the whey. The latter ma}^ not be as 
good for fattening pork, but the cheese will suffer no loss 
of its muscle-forming power, the property which gives 
it so high value as an article of food. Certainly the gain 
in the butter will be greater than the loss in the cheese. 




CHAPTER XXXIX. 

BREEDS OF CATTLE. 

|UT we must hasten to speak briefly of the differ- 
ent breeds of cattle, with Avhich we are as greatly 
(S^ blessed as was that most skillful breeder of old, the 
ii^|r rj^pi^fi^ii Jacob. In the first place, we have our native 
cattle, a conglomerate of all the breeds of western Europe. 
It has been generally supposed that the prevailing original 
breed of New England was Devon, as the Pilgrims came 
from Plymouth in Devonshire ; but the first cattle imported 
into New England were landed at Boston, four years after 
the settlement of Plymouth, and very possibly the first 
stock may have come from Lincolnshire, where the coarser 
short horns abounded. It is safe to infer that the various 
emigrants to New England brought with them the cattle 
to which they had been accustomed, and those from the 
counties nearest the ports where they w.ere shipped, and 
after they were imported were intermixed in all possible 
degrees. Their descendants, even now, give evidence of 
their origin, as we still find the favorite mahogany-colored 
Devons, the white-faced Herefords, the jDolled or hornless 
cows of Suffolk and Norfolk, and the black Galloways 
from Scotland, occasionally cropping out among our native 
cattle. Many of them are well formed, and are excellent, 
both as oxen and cows. Few of the thorough-breds will 
excel in quantity or quality of milk some of the native 



JEALOUSY OF CATTLE BREEDERS. 367 

cows; but there is no certainty that the natives will 
transmit their good qualities to the next generation. 

Besides the English breeds of cattle early imported into 
this country, the Danes, who had settled on the Piscataqua 
river in New Hampshire, brought over in 1631 some 
Danish cattle, large and coarse, of a yellow color. The 
Dutch, in 1625, imported into New York some of the 
black and white cattle of Holland, which spread up the 
Hudson river and into the western part of this state. 

We thus have had in New England a great variety of 
crosses, and as the best of the different kinds have usually 
been selected for propagation, we have had and now have 
unusually good herds, but no effort has been made on an 
extensive scale in this country to originate any distinct 
breed. There has been less occasion for this, as the 
English have labored in this direction with great zeal, and 
we have reaped the fruit of their labors. There are in 
Great Britain now at least nineteen different breeds of 
cattle, and the number is constantly increasing. Thus the 
three little islands of Jersey, Guernsey and Alderney have, 
until recently, furnished a breed passing under the com- 
mon name of Jersey or Alderney ; but now these islands 
are as jealous of each other as three Bantam roosters, each 
claiming a breed peculiar to itself, and fearing contamina- 
tion with the other, much as do the different castes of 
India. The French also have fifteen distinct breeds, and 
in a recent French work on cattle, engravings are given of 
fifty-five European varieties of the bos taurus. Great 
Britain, however, it is acknowledged on all hands, stands 
at the head of all the nations of the earth in the excel- 
lence of her neat cattle, and from her mainly have we 
derived the means for starting the thorough-bred races of 
this country. 



368 SHOrvT-HOEX dup.ham. 

* 

The breed which has attracted the most attention, botli in 
England and America, doubtless, is the Durham, Avhich was 
first distinctly brought to the notice of the public by the 
brothers Charles and Eobert Colling, in the latter part of 
the last century. The Short-horns have been bred in thi^ 
country for the last fifty years, and we now have some 
herds which will compare favorably with any of whicli 
England can boast. For size, early maturity and beauty 
no cattle fill the eye like the Short-horns, and, v/hen beef 
is the leading object with the farmer, they stand unri- 
valed. They were originally, also, noted as mills:ers ; but 
so pleasing to the eye is the full, rotund carcass of the 
early-maturing Durhams, that breeders have been tempted 
to feed them high from early calf hood, so that the ten- 
dency has been to produce flesh rather than milk. This is 
especially the case in the western and south-western states, 
where beef is the prime object in cattle husbandry. Some 
of the Ohio and Kentucky Short-horns scarcely furnish 
milk enough to bring up their calves. In New England, 
where the dairy must ever be the leading object with the 
farmer, we must select those families of the Short-horns 
that have been bred with a reference to milk as well as 
good sirloins. Fortunately we have in Massachusetts, in 
the herds of the three leading breeders, — Mr. Plunkett of 
Hinsdale, Mr. White of Framingham and Mr. Lathrop 
of South Hadley, — Short-horns whose pedigrees are 
traced through long lines of good milkers. 

It has been feared by some that the short feed of the 
hilly pastures of New England was not adapted to sup- 
port the stately Durhams, but the fear has been dissipated 
by the results of practice. Mr. Plunkett's herd grazes 
on one of the mountain farms of Berkshire, and if any 
one can detect any deterioration in his stock he must 



NERVOUS TEMPERAMEXT OF CATTLE. 369 

look with jaundiced eyes. The testimony of breeders is 
united that when the Short-horns and the native cattle are 
fed alike, both in the pasture and the stable, the Short- 
horn outstrips the native in growth and flesh. The dif- 
ference of breeds can not originate in the feeding trough. 
There is something in the constitution of the animal, in 
its form and in its muscular and nervous org^anization 
which enables one to do better than another on the same 
feed, and this form and healthy action of the organs is 
perpetuated in the race. 

We see the principle illustrated among men, as well as 
among the lower animals. Some are of the Cassius kind, 
lean and hungry, naturally nervous and excitable, and 
spend the strength which they derive from food in fret- 
fiilness and unnecessary anxiety. We know some men 
w^ho are constitutionally so nervous or so deficient in some 
vital organ, that no amount of food can put much flesh 
on their bones. We should as soon think of educating 
a fool, as undertaking to put flesh on such a man. 

Cattle have no stings of conscience, no fears of a panic 
in the money market, and no anxiety about the future ; 
still, there is as much difference in their constitutional 
vigor and nervous organization ''as among other folks," 
and the successful feeder must always have an eye to the 
constitution and temperament. The Short-horns have 
been bred with special reference to a vigorous constitution 
and a quiet temperament which enable them to digest 
and assimilate their food with great economy. Their 
short legs may not adapt them for the active motion of 
the Devons, but short legs, whether on bipeds or quadru- 
peds, are generally an indication of a tendency to put on 
flesh. To judge of the temperament, there is no feature 
so expressive either with man or beast, as the eye, and it 
IC* 



870 THE AYRSHIRE AND TIIE DEVON. 

is positively refreshing to notice the calm, cool dignity 
there is in the eye of a Short-horn. A school-master can 
not survey his pupils with more deliberation than a Dur- 
ham manifests when he looks over his situation, and sa3^s, 
with his slow-rolling eye: "I am master here." We 
therefore accord to the milking families of the Durhams 
the first place on the list of the herds of cattle, in consid- 
eration of the two great purposes of cattle husbandry, 
milk and beef. Others we know differ from us, but the 
verdict of the country at large, as evinced by actual^prac- 
tice, sustains our opinion. 

What breed of cattle we should raise must be deter- 
mined very much by the circumstances of each individual. 
Where milk is furnished for market, there is no cow that 
pays better than the Ayrshire, which has long been dis- 
tinguished in Scotland for her large flow of milk in pro- 
portion to her size and the quantity of food consumed, 
and a forty years' trial in this country has fully sustained 
her reputation. Mr. Birnie reports one of his Ayrshires 
as giving in five months, from pasture feed, green hay and 
corn-stalks, 5753 pounds of milk, or her own weight in 
milk for each of the five months, and 400 pounds over. 
It has been generally supposed that the Ayrshire milk is 
not as rich as that from some other breeds ; still, the first 
Ayrshire cow, imported by the Massachusetts Agricultural 
Society in 1837, furnished milk from which was made six- 
teen pounds of butter a week for several weeks in suc- 
cession, from grass feed alone. 

For working oxen of medium size, no cattle can compare 
with the Devons. This is an old English breed, said to 
be contemporaneous with the conquest of the island by 
the Romans, and greatly improved within the last century. 
For the quantity of milk, the Devons are not remarkable, 



THE JERSEY AND THE BllITTANY. 371 

but its quality is superior ; and for oxen we have never 
seen any tliat could equal them in fineness of Lone, mus- 
cular power, intelligence, quickness of action and endur- 
ance. They are so docile, and at the same time so quick 
and active, that they can be trained to obey and endure 
like soldiers. If any one wishes to see military evolutions 
performed by Devon oxen, let him visit the annual fairs 
of some of the Worcester County agricultural socie- 
ties. 

For a family cow that will give good, rich coffee milk, 
we know nothing equal to the Jersey. This breed was in- 
troduced into the United States about thirty years ago, 
from the island of Jersey, where it has been bred for 
many years with particular reference to butter. The 
cow does not fill the eye, nor a large pail, but gives a 
milk rich in cream, and holds out through the year, and 
is becoming a great favorite, especially in the eastern 
part of this state. The Jerseys have improved in size 
and quantity of milk, both in their native home and in 
this countr3^ One of the cows of this breed has been 
known to furnish three pounds of batter per day, five 
quarts of milk in some instances making a pound of but- 
ter. The Jerseys will never be hung for their beautiful 
forms, but they have fine heads and necks, soft skin and 
hair, the latter often fawn-colored, delicate limbs, good 
escutcheons, and with their owners are always great fa- 
vorites, every Jersey breeder looking on his own herd 
very much as a crow is said to regard iier own young. 
Indeed this is true of the breeders of all the different 
varieties of stock. The ladies especially make pets of 
the little Jerseys, and as Queen Victoria has a special fan- 
cy for this breed, gentlemen may as well make up their 
minds that the Jerseys will be the fashionable stock, and 



372 DUTCH CATTLE. 

grant the ladies a right to the ownership of a beurre 
heifer. 

A rival to the little Jersey has sprung up in the still 
smaller Breton cow, imported recently from France by 
our friend, the secretary of the Massachusetts Board of 
Agriculture. The average height of this cow is some 
thirty-eight inches, generally of black and white color, 
and with great symmetry of form. The Brittany cow is 
probably the progenitor of the Jersey, and like her de- 
scendant is distinguished for the richness of her milk and 
the long continuance of her milking powers. The nutty 
flavor of her butter is said to be superior to that of the 
Jersey, and in this respect she stands first among "the 
breeds of France. 

The Dutch cattle have been long famous for their milk- 
ing qualities, and specimens of them were early imported 
into this country. They came from the low, moist, rich 
lands, extending from France to Holstein, where the soij. 
and climate are exceedingly favorable to the production 
of grass and large races of cattle. They are great milk- 
ers, and the milk is particularl}^ rich in casein. 

Time fails me to speak of the other breeds, nor is it 
necessary. Every man must examine this matter of 
breeds for himself, be fully persuaded in his own mind, 
and judge what is best from his own stand-point. We 
are satisfied Massachusetts can carry twice if not thrice 
the amount of stock she now does, and it belongs to the 
farmers of the state to see that the capacity of our soil 
is fully developed, and that our thousand hills are alive 
with cattle. 









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